A Crown of Golden Leaves II
by Embrasia
Summary: With Merlin and the knights by his side Arthur, the boy king of Camelot, battles a vengeful Morgana as well as his own feelings for Guinevere, the enchanting older girl who just happens to be engaged to his friend and comrade Lancelot.
1. The Golden Apple

**Author's note: fyi Myrddin = Merlin**

The Golden Apple

Morgana winced in pain and tucked her bleeding feet beneath her dingy skirts. The rats had been nibbling at her toes and fingers for days. As she looked around the dark, musty dungeon, which had become her very own purgatory, she could not remember the last time she had bathed or eaten. The place was dark accept for a few fiery torches along the walls, which cast an eerie orange glow over the prison.

As a seer the fifteen year old princess was prone to prophetic nightmares. But nothing in her wildest imagination had predicted this horror: that she, the crowned princess of Ealdor, would be imprisoned deep within the bowels of her own dungeons. She grabbed the hefty femur bone from some unfortunate prisoner's remains and cracked the next rat that honed into proximity of the sleeping child who rested within her embrace; her father's seven year old ward, Lady Guinevere. The animal squeaked a full thirty seconds before it died, and Morgana used the thigh bone to sweep it into a pile with his slain comrades. She had never killed anything before. She was a gentle soul, but after seeing her family betrayed by her father's best friend Agravaine, Morgana realized that this was an eat or be eaten world.

Her eyes burned from exhaustion. She could barely keep them open as she rubbed her aching rat bitten feet. She had given her shoes to Gwen, which were way too big for the child but still served as a barrier to vermin. Now Morgana's own feet were left unprotected, and even the rat bites were not as bad as the itchy lice residing within her greasy matted locks. She'd scratched her scalp until it bled and scabbed over in spots but the insatiable itching remained.

There was a nauseating crack as she clobbered another rat. This one died instantly. She was getting good at this: good at killing with precision, without remorse or empathy.

Gwen began to move sluggishly with a low whine. Morgana embraced the child even tighter and rocked her back to sleep with a pleasant hum. She wanted Guinevere to remember as little of this ugliness as possible; for they would be free and Morgana would surely kill the evil witch responsible.

Approaching footsteps made Morgana's back snap straight, "Nimueh," she growled as the witch opened the gates of her prison cell and sauntered in.

Nimueh stood in a ruby red gown as she gingerly tossed a solid gold apple in the air and caught it again and again as if it were a ball. "Hungry?" She asked as she spun the treasure on her fingertip until the shiny gold transformed to the red of an actual fruit. Then she tossed it to the starving Morgana.

"It's poison," Morgana snapped.

Nimueh laughed, "I haven't any cause to kill you. How can magic ever be restored to these lands unless you take the thrown?"

Morgana's belly growled as she glared at the delectable fruit suspiciously, and Nimueh assured her, "If I yearned to kill you, you would be dead already."

At those words Morgana tore into the fruit with ravenous desperation, not caring at the moment if she swallowed seed or stem. Midway through she shook Gwen's shoulder, who began to stir wiping her eyes as she woke.

"Eat," Morgana told the feeble girl as she passed her the rest of the apple. Then Morgana turned back to Nimueh and said, "I already told you I would rather die than betray Cenred. He is my friend. He's your son Nimueh! Why would you ever want to harm him?!"

"I seek not to harm my son, but to bring out the best in him," Nimueh promised with an unconvincing grin.

"No you wish to bring out the worst!" Morgana yelled springing to her feet. "You wish to turn him into the most heartless, savage, cutthroat bastard who ever walked the face of the earth! And I will not aide you!"

Guinevere stopped munching at the apple and looked up, never seeing Morgana so angry. It sent a shiver down the girl's spine as she witness the flash of demon red in Morgana's eyes.

Nimueh smirked and called over her shoulder, "Bring him in!"

There was a cacophony as Agravaine and another of Nimueh's lackeys drug a battered and bruised Uther Pendragon into the cell.

"Father," Morgana screamed as they hurled him on the ground at her feet.

Gwen began to sob uncontrollably as Uther said, "Let them go! They're just children! I've already told you my daughter is no seer! Wouldn't I know if my own child possessed magic?"

Morgana pleaded, "He's right. I've seen nothing!"

Agravaine held Morgana back as the other brute held the sword to Uther's chest.

An evil smile creased Nimueh's full red lips, "Awww your magic hating daddy doesn't know his baby girl has magic."

"That's because she doesn't," Uther vehemently denied.

Nimueh laughed, "Morgana I swear on everything holy I will take your father piece by piece if you do not reveal my son's Achilles heel. You have until the count of three."

"One!"

"She doesn't have magic!" Gwen bellowed as the sword was raised high over Uther's chest.

"Two!"

Morgana shivered at the horrific ultimatum. _I can't give Nimueh what she wants, no matter the price."_

"Three!"

"STOP!" Morgana screamed at the rapidly descending blade. It ceased before it had skewered him.

Morgana's tears poured and Uther looked on in utter shock as his daughter professed, "Cenred has two weaknesses. The first is a cage locked deep within the castle vaults. It appears to hold nothing at all but Cenred is terrified of it."

"And the second," Nimueh questioned.

"You already know what the second weakness is," Morgana snapped. "If you wait for a time when his mind is at its most fragile to strike he will surely become the son and ruler you've always wanted. But implore you not to unleash the beast. He will bring about nothing but chaos and misery."

"Release him," Nimueh ordered.

Uther climbed to his feet and embraced both girls tight, tears running from his eyes as he hugged them both. He realized his malicious assaults on those who practiced magic had made his own daughter fearful and ashamed of herself.

"I'm sorry," Morgana whispered between sobs still wrapped in her father's embrace. "I never asked for this."

"No it is I who am sorry," Uther swore.

Morgana screamed and clutched her stomach she looked down with confusion as a small spot of blood emerged on her dress. She had been pierced with the tip of a sword; a sword that had been run through her father. Uther gasped breathlessly as he fell to the ground, dark red blood running between his fingers as he gripped the mortal wound.

"Noooo!" Morgana and Gwen wailed and fell to their knees at his side cradling him as he coughed up blood and took his final breath.

Morgana rose and lunged for the witch. Nimueh vanished from her grasp again and again until Morgana fell to the ground exhausted.

Morgana cried out, "You promised you would allow him to live if I told you."

"Yes, but I didn't specify how long. Magic would never be allowed as long as Uther reigned." Nimueh confessed as Morgana and Gwen sobbed in each other's arms.

Nimueh chimed as another golden apple hovered at her fingertips. "You should be grateful Morgana I just made you queen."

Morgana vowed vehemently, her large green eyes glowing fiery red, "You are right Nimueh. I will bring magic back. And I will practice every dark art there is until I've found a way to kill you in the most excruciating horrible way."

A sinister laugh escaped the demoness' lips as she cast the golden apple to the floor. A cloud of smoke blanketed the air and when it cleared Nimueh was gone…

* * *

_When in Rome_

Geoffrey of Monmouth sat peacefully collating documents of nobility in the vast Library and Museum of Rome. The sun was shining in through the lofty windows as he stroked his white beard thoughtfully and smiled ever pleased with himself. After many long days of research and hard work he and his team of scholars had at last finished the magnificent Trojan War display. Life size statues depicting the mighty gods as well as noble mortals were posed in action. A chariot pulled by winged horses held a sculpture of Apollo as its driver. It was suspended regally from the rafters. Yes it had taken six months to pull this exhibit together and it was truly a sight to behold.

A sudden clatter destroyed the silence. Broke the calm and serenity. Geoffrey looked up abruptly. The dusty ancient scrolls went flying from his desk as seven year old Freya and Myrddin swept through the aisles like a tornado. The wicked Agatha, dripping with scolding hot stew, was hot on their trails.

"Get back here you little brats!" The barrel-chested nanny/warden bellowed.

"This is a library," Geoffrey called after the children, joining in the chase.

Myrddin and Freya fled. Ran up the aisles. Ran down. Scanned the perimeter for an exit.

Freya pointed at the back door, "There!"

They bolted down the aisle. A disgruntled Geoffrey appeared, blocking their path.

"Freya!" Myrddin grabbed her arm.

They skid to a stop. Ran the other way. Agatha appeared at the opposite end. The children ceased so fast their sandals were smoking. Freya swallowed hard as Agatha and Geoffrey closed in on them. Myrddin gazed up at the vast shelves of books they were trapped between. He and Freya met eyes with a mischievous grin.

"Climb." The children said in unison.

"Stop!" Geoffrey ordered as Freya and Myrddin climbed the shelves with spider-like dexterity. Chucking hefty books down at Agatha. The nanny hollered in pain as they pelted her with heavy volumes.

Myrddin reached the top of the shelf. He extended a hand to Freya and pulled her up.

"Get down here this instant!" Geoffrey yelled.

"Get down here now!" Ordered Agatha.

The children lept from one shelf top to the next in the direction of their exit. Victory was near. So very near when Myrddin lost his footing. He fell caught the next shelf just in time. The mighty shelf teetered. It toppled.

A screaming Myrddin and Freya rode the massive shelf like a wave as it crashed into the next one creating a giant domino effect.

"Noooo!" Geoffrey wailed unable to prevent the catastrophe. One shelf after another collided with the next, knocking down Apollo's chariot, and then crashing upon the war exhibit. The destruction was unfathomable. A myriad of busted volumes and torn scrolls lay all around him in disarray. The magnificent sculpture of the Venus de Milo lay crushed beneath Apollo's chariot; the graceful arms broken off of her lovely form. The curator/ historian stood breathless, speechless as he knelt to pick up a shattered clay arm in his trembling hands. Geoffrey's eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted and collapsed on the floor with his exhibit.

A wide-eyed Myrddin and Freya emerged from the wreckage relatively unscathed. A tight-lipped Agatha stood before them fuming, brown stew still dripping from her thin scraggily hair and running down her chin. A large dark red knot had arisen on her forehead from taking a flying book to the face. The children yelped in pain as she snatched them up by their ears and drug them to Cenred; or as the masses called him _Caesar_…

* * *

_Promise You'll Never Leave Me_

Cenred paced back and forth before his ward and his son. The children sat down on the massive bed of Caesar's elaborate chamber, looking down at the floor as Caesar chastised them, "Sorry doesn't cut it!" The children jumped nervously, never seeing him so angry before. "You toppled the Trojan War Display! Broke the head off Achilles! Have you anything to say for yourselves?"

"We were trying to escape from Agatha," Freya said meekly.

Cenred huffed, "You wouldn't have had to escape had you not kicked her in the shin and dumped a bowl of stew on her head."

"Freya only did that because Agatha said nasty things about my mother," Myrddin snapped. "I overheard her calling my mom a corpse! I told Agatha to take it back, because my mom is still alive and she laughed and said 'not for long'."

Cenred took a deep breath and sat between the children. He placed an arm around them both and pulled them close as he said, "Agatha was wrong to say those things about your mother and I promise I'll have her job and see her in the stocks for what she said. But the two of you cannot continue to act out like this, and Freya I heard that most days you refuse to eat anything but strawberries. Why?"

Freya looked away and he urged her, "Why Freya?"

"Because the Empress smells of strawberries," Freya whispered, her doe eyes filling with tears, "No one has allowed us to see her in weeks."

Cenred nodded, "I understand your anger and frustration but your acts cannot go unpunished. You will both assist with cleaning up the library. Freya since you initiated the assault there will be no swimming or strawberries for two weeks."

"But Caesar," Freya gasped. "I beg you…"

He put his hand up, immediately hushing her and then turned to his son, "And you Myrddin will begin weapon's training tomorrow. You are supposed to protect Freya, not get her into even greater trouble."

"Milord," Myrddin pleaded before Cenred hushed him.

Freya sniffled. "Is the Empress really going to die?"

Myrddin looked up eager to know the answer as well.

"No, of course not," Cenred assured the children. "My Hunith is strong. She'll overcome her sickness as she always does and when she is all better in a few days. She'll join us at the glorious ceremony when we free the slaves."

Freya's heart lept with happiness. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, "Do you really mean it?"

Cenred nodded, "I'll give the ones who want to leave safe passage to Britain and a sack of silver to live off of until they get settled. I'll give the slaves who decide to stay each a stipend of land to work and call their own. And Hunith, our Empress, will be standing at my side when I do this."

"Thank you Father," called an ecstatic Myrddin.

"Hunith!" Cenred called as he saw his lovely young wife standing in the doorway. Even her illness could not hamper her beauty. Both he and the children ran over to embrace her. They all held one another for at least two minutes before anyone stirred.

Hunith bent over until she was eye level with the children and smiled through her tears as she said, "No matter what happens always remember that I love you and I'm so proud of you."

She kissed them both and sent them outside to play.

"What are you doing out of bed," asked her concerned husband.

Hunith smiled warmly and placed a loving kiss upon his cheek. She jested in her own defense, "I wouldn't be out of bed if you hadn't forbidden Myrddin and Freya to see me."

He grinned and wrapped his leather clad arms around her, "I forbid them to see you because I knew you would tell them you were dying."

"Because it's true," Hunith said into his chest. "I'm only 27 and my heart works twice as hard as a normal person's. The children should be prepared for what is to come and so should you."

"It's not true!" The 21 year old emperor snapped, releasing her almost bitterly. "You've been sick before! You always beat it! This time will be no different."

Hunith slumped down on her husband's bed. He refused to listen to her as always. Cenred was optimistic to the point of being delusional when it came to his wife's heart condition. He simply would not, could not let her go. He fell to his knees at her feet and rested his head upon her lap as she gingerly ran her fingers through his wavy black tresses.

"You can never leave me Hunith," He implored her with his eyes closed swooning in the gentle caress of her fingers in his hair. "I love you too much."

A single sparkling teardrop left her eye and fell upon his cheek. She felt a tingle she hadn't felt since before she fell ill as his palm rubbed and caressed the shapely calf beneath her dazzling white toga.

"Caesar," She whispered breathlessly as he made his way up her thigh kissing and nibbling. "Stop," she cried fighting her desires as he ripped the undergarments off of her.

"Not until you promise to never leave me," He whispered slipping two fingers inside of her, his lips and tongue upon her neck. She moaned loudly lustfully at the pleasure of her husband's touching and kissing and suckling.

"I need to here you say it," He breathed against her neck between hot kisses. "I'll stop if you'll just say you won't leave me Hunith."

Her tears began to stream as her body grew overwhelmed with need for him, "I love you Cenred but I cannot promise you that. I have to leave."

He shook his head no and pulled his fingers from between her legs. Closing his eyes almost dreamily as he sucked them, a muffled "mmm" escaping his impeccable lips at the taste of her.

"I think I'll have more," He said with a manly groan, his voice heavy with lust as he spread her thighs, parted her lower lips and licked the delicate folds in between.

She released a wanton moan as he suckled and caressed the sensitive area with his soft wet lips, his tongue, his fingertips. Her body began to quiver as she gazed down at the wonderful view of the top of his head as he rained pleasure upon her. She gripped his shoulder length tresses as he pleased her with his tongue.

She stammered breathlessly, "You are… trying to… make me lie to you… I won't this time… I can't this time."

He rose removing his leathers, his steely manhood jutting out before him as he lowered himself upon her whispering in her ear as he pushed himself inside, "I need you to promise me. I love you too much to lose you."

Hunith's tears rolled back into her ears as she wrapped her legs around his incredible naked form giving in to her steamy desires accepting her husband's love, his rippling chest brushing over her thinly veiled nipples with every forward and backward motion each stroke long, deep, and deliberate.

"Tell me Hunith," He begged lustfully desperately as passion mounted.

Her mind swimming in love and lust and wanton need as she clawed at the muscular canvas of his back, praying to the gods it would never end, that they would remain in the throes of passion, in each other's arm forever. Her legs began to tremble, her back arch off the bed as she found herself no longer capable of denying her husband's only wish. As he held her tight nibbling at her neck, pumping and thrusting and fucking like he'd never done before, she dug her fingers into his back moaning in climax, "Cenred… my Cenred… I will never ever leave you."

"I know," He smiled against her neck pushing himself in so hard and so deep that he gasped spilling forth his nectar.

She winced a little in pain as he withdrew from her. With passion fading she could not deny that the size of him made her sore. He lay on his back and pulled her close to him. He nuzzled his face in her sweet strawberry smelling hair breathing her in for more than a few moments before kissing the top of her head.

She whispered into his chest, "I love you Cenred with all my heart and soul."

"Hunith you are the heart of me," He vowed vehemently and said in a reprimanding tone. "Don't ever say you're dying again."

She laughed and placed a sweet peck upon his chest.

He chuckled joyfully with her and said, "I told everyone you'll be present at the emancipation ceremony, at my right hand as I free all the Britain slaves."

"Hunith I thought you would be excited about this," He said at her lack of response.

"Hunith"

"Hunith"

He sniffled, his chestnut eyes flooding with tears as he looked upon her beautiful lifeless face, her pink pouty lips slightly parted in a smile. Her dazzling blue eyes unblinking and yet still so wrought with love for him. Cenred burst into heaving sobs as he gently closed those loving eyes…

* * *

Cenred had barricaded himself in his chamber for days, screaming and tearing at his tresses, and throwing things. He punched the walls until his knuckles bled just to feel anything other than the pain of her loss. She was his heart. Now all that remained in his chest was a desolate hollow where she used to be. Half a week's worth of untouched food sat on the table molding, causing a god awful stench. He pulled himself off the cold marble floor, stiffened his shoulders, put his head up. _I must be strong now for Myrddin and Freya. They will need me._

A loud whoosh made him whip around at once, "Mother! But how?!"

"I picked up a few tricks after you banished me," She grinned the same bone chilling grin that struck fear in his heart as a child.  
"Mother please can we reconcile," He pleaded desperately. "I've already lost enough family this week."

"Of course," She promised hugging him. "I merely came to offer my condolences."

Cenred nodded returning her embrace when she dropped a golden apple at their feet. Before he could jump back he had vanished with her. Cenred hollered whipping around in all directions. They had reappeared in the cluttered castle vaults. His guards came running at the ruckus. They fell to their knees woozy as Nimueh sang them to sleep like a siren. Just as she'd done to Uther's guards.

"Hello Cenred," An eerily familiar voice called a voice only he could here.

Cenred's blood turned to ice. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he turned around slowly. Before him stood a cage atop a rolling cart, which imprisoned and evil man baring his own image. A wicked villainous monster only he could see, whom Caesar had once called the General. Cenred backed away slowly as Nimueh stood before the seemingly empty cage with a smirk on her face. Before Cenred could scream "Nooo!" she had used magic to bust the locks and unleashed the beast. Nimueh watched with amusement as her tortured son rolled and tossed about the floor fighting an invisible foe. He rose several minutes later looking exactly the same, but with a very different personality; the wicked General's personality.

He sauntered casually over and bent to kiss her hand, "My sincerest thanks for freeing me. Your deeds will not go unrewarded milady."

Nimueh smiled ever pleased with herself having succeeded in causing her son's psychotic break, "The only payment I require is for you to be all that you can be."

"That's all," He pondered suspiciously.

She confessed with a sinister laugh, "Well that and see to the demise of Arthur Pendragon..."

**Thanx for reading chapter 1 Please review it helps me know what to write next :^) **

**-Embrasia-**


	2. The Aftermath

**Author's note: the first Crown of Golden Leaves story was a Merlin/Freya so I'll try to get my Arwen people up to speed. In book one Cenred suffered brain damage which caused him to have a few issues. In ancient Roman time they would say he was possessed periodically by a demon. In today's world we would call him a paranoid schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder and a propensity toward violence. So depending upon whether you look at ailments spiritually or scientifically you might consider Cenred possessed by evil or suffering from mental illness. I hope this explains things :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Aftermath

Cenred shot straight up in bed screaming. Drenched in a cold sweat. Breathing heavily. For nine long years the General took over his body, controlled his life, conquered and enslaved all of Europe and beyond. Reduced his precious ward to the status of a lowly slave; while the true Cenred had been locked in a cage atop a rolling cart and made a prisoner of his own mind. Now at long last, within the last couple of weeks Cenred had gotten his life back but was the aftermath far too great?

His personal guards burst through the door at the sound of his screams. "Careful Caesar"

"Take it easy Sire" They cautioned.

He sat up with an agonizing groan feeling as if he had been trampled by a stampede of buffalo. Everything hurt. "Why do I feel so awful," Cenred questioned in a hoarse and gravelly voice, his head pounding like a war drum.

"You were poisoned three days ago on the night of your son's wedding," Explained Helios the captain of the guard.

"Poisoned!" Cenred exclaimed as he climbed out of bed on wobbly feet.

Helios grabbed his shoulders to steady him and nodded, "I've given the orders to hunt down Freya."

Those words smacked Cenred out of his delirium at once. He snatched Helios' sword. Pressed it to the large man's throat. Cenred bellowed, "I will take your head if you speak against her again!"

Helios swallowed hard in utter shock to see Cenred standing up for a slave girl. This was not at all the Caesar they'd become accustomed to over the better part of a decade. He didn't give a damn about Freya just weeks ago and now he was threatening to strike down his champion over her. What changed?

Helios slowly eased the blade aside, "Caesar you must consider the fact that Freya was the last one you were with when you fell ill and she is nowhere to be seen now."

"Did you consider the fact that she may have disappeared because she knew she would be the first one blamed?!" Cenred yelled. "She drank the same wine I did!"

"Milord, it could have been your chalice that was poisoned," Helios replied.

"Or maybe someone else poisoned me," Cenred snapped. "Find the assassin and bring me his head! And someone check on my son and his bride!"

The other guards took off at once. Helios informed Cenred, "I have worse news." An icy chill swept over Helios as Cenred's furious glare fell upon him. The large brown skinned man  
willed himself to speak. "Your son and daughter in law are missing."  
Cenred froze petrified, horrified. When he finally found words he growled sarcastically, "Were Myrddin and Guinevere kidnapped or did Freya 'poison' them to?"

"Please accept my apologies for accusing Freya," Helios put his head down. "I'll issue a search party for all three."

"That might be a good idea," A tight lipped Cenred snarled.

In order to redeem himself Helios called out the only good news, "We have arrested a suspect. Three witnesses claimed to have seen him slipping things into your food. They assumed it was just herbs and seasonings at first. It wasn't until after you nearly died that they realized his villainy. He's scheduled for execution."

Cenred gripped the large sword and growled through clenched teeth, "Don't bother. I'll kill him myself."

After finding Myrddin's letter pinned beneath his crown of golden leaves. Cenred was forced to face the ugly truth. His son had resigned from the throne and annulled his arranged marriage to Guinevere. The two of them had run away and he could only pray Freya was safe in their company and not all alone frightened and defenseless. Cenred breathed a sigh of relief at the news because it could have been a lot worse. Myrddin and Gwen could have been kidnapped by rivals and tortured or killed. But they left of their own volition, so all Cenred had to do was right a few wrongs and convince them to return and take their rightful places as future emperor and empress of Rome.

After organizing several search parties Cenred marched through the prison, sword unsheathed with a gang of soldiers at his back, "Guard!"

A young auburn haired man unlocked the gate. He hurled the prisoner on the cold granite floor at Cenred's feet; who used the blade to push back the man's hood and reveal his traitorous face.

Cenred stumbled backward and nearly dropped his sword, "Gaius?! But why?!"

xXx

_Guinevere & the Seven Seas_

Guinevere yawned, stretched and rubbed her exhausted eyes as she sat up in bed. As always her first thoughts were of her valiant young friend Arthur. Was he lonely in Camelot? How was he adjusting to the stresses and responsibilities of being king?

The sun had not risen and she could already hear the scurrying of the crew up on deck. She pulled a sheet up over her naked breasts, tucked the covering underneath each arm. _Somehow I'm not surprised to hear the sailors already at work. Captain Leon runs a tight ship. But where is my Lancelot? I would assume he would be the last one to wake giving his propensity toward sea sickness._

She gripped her sheet as the door creaked open, "Lancelot!"

He walked in with a pleasent smile and a plate of fish and scallops, "Breakfast."

He sat beside her. She pulled on a white long sleeve shirt of his which came down just past her bottom, "I was worried when I woke up to find your bedside empty, especially with your history of sea sickness."

"I must have out grown it," He grinned and kissed her lips affectionately. "I feel fantastic."

"I'm happy to hear it," Guinevere looked down at the delectable plate. "What's with the lemons?"

He picked up a wedged and squeezed it, its tangy juices drizzling over the fish and scallops, "It's to insure that you don't get scurvy."

"Oh," Gwen smiled and tried a tender piece of fish. "The lemon juice actually makes it better. It's delicious. You should try some."

"Maybe just a scallop," He grinned.

Gwen smacked his hand, "You know better! You swelled up like a puffer fish at Morgana's coronation after eating an oyster. I was just a girl but I remember it clear as day. You and shellfish just don't agree."

"True but I still get a taste for them." He chuckled and tried some fish instead.

"Thank you for breakfast," She ate the tangy sea food and set the plate aside.

"It was delicious," Lancelot grinned.

Gwen kissed his cheek, "You barley had any."

"I wasn't talking about the flounder," He bit his lip with a mischievous gaze.

She closed her eyes and purred his name as he rubbed his palm along her smooth naked thigh.

He hooked an arm around her back and breathed against her neck, "I wish we'd done like Merlin and Freya and just married here on the boat. We still can."

Gwen thought about it a moment, "But what about all our friends and family: My cousin Elyan, your Aunt, and I'm sure you can hardly wait to see little Arthur? I know I'm dying to see him. All our loved ones will want to be a part of our wedding."

"It's just… Because of Morgana we've been sneaking around for so long," Lancelot pouted.

"Then a few more weeks shouldn't kill us," Gwen assured him as she unbuttoned his shirt and then peeled it off of his broad shoulders.

He nodded in agreement as he pulled the shirt up her body and off her arms, kissing Gwen passionately as he kicked off his boots and tore at his belt buckle.

"I love you," He vowed as he moved up her body in a slow and relaxed manner, capturing her in his hypnotic gaze, his steely erection brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Marry me here on the ship Guinevere," He breathed against her neck as he thrust his stone hard manhood inside of her waiting sheath, a squeal of pleasure escaping her quivering lips with his penetration.

He drifted into a slow and steady tempo as Gwen lay at his mercy captive to his passions, her shapely legs wrapped around his firm naked form, her wanton moans trapped within his kiss as he drove into her. She found it harder and harder to deny his request. As a girl Gwen would have never dreamed of giving her maidenhead to a man not her husband. Lancelot had a hold on her unlike any she'd ever felt before and yet as her orgasm washed over her like a warm summer's rain she was thoroughly surprised that it was with the image of none other than Arthur Pendragon…

xXx

_Arthur's 13__th__ Birthday Feast_

There were tumblers, and jugglers, and acrobats to illuminate the festive occasion. The air smelled of sweet spices and salty meats. Couples danced ceremoniously to the melody of lutes and string instruments as Arthur sat idly picking his food with a forlorn look in his eye.

Though a nice turnout, many lords and ladies as well as kings and queens did not accept his invitation. He was the only son of the late King Uther Pendragon, but Arthur was illegitimate by birth and born to a common woman. Many nobles did not accept him as king and likely would not for a long time to come. He was on the verge of war with his sister Morgana as well as the other three kingdoms over his vast disputed lands; and yet his main concern was for the woman who'd comforted him while Morgana imprisoned him in the dungeon's of Ealdor. He longed to gaze upon the beautiful face of the brave and virtuous lady who risked her life to bring him food and clothing when he was later sold to be a slave in the Roman Coliseum. She was his reason for living, his reason for fighting to see another day. Without her love he would've surely given up, and perished along with so many other captives. And now he was Arthur, king of Camelot, even if many still saw fit not to accept it. Arthur never asked to be sired by a king, and he certainly never yearned for the responsibility of a throne. He came from humble beginnings and his wants and needs had always been such. His heart's only desire was the one thing he couldn't have, Guinevere; for she was the soon to be wife of the most noble knight of all: his savior and friend Sir Lancelot. _Lancelot saw me as a king before most saw me as a person. I was an orphaned street rat living on palace garbage when he took me in, clothed me, fed me, taught me to fight. What am I to do when Lancelot is my right hand, but his beloved Guinevere will always be my heart?_

Arthur brought the cool metal chalice to his lips, gazing over the rim at a lovely young lady. Her movements were as fluid and graceful as a nymph's as she allowed the music to carry her body. Every man at court was fighting for her attention but it was Arthur who won her mesmerizing gaze. He knew that her coy smile, the way she pulled up her heavy tresses and allowed them to cascaded down her back like a waterfall, even the way she was looking at him over her shoulder as she danced; they were all signs that she was interested in him. He was equally intrigued with her, as she disappeared behind others on the crowded floor and then twirled back into his vision again. She was lost behind a man of great stature, who a frustrated Arthur refrained from yelling at to move. After a few minutes of telepathically urging the giant, the man moved at last. But she was gone. Arthur looked around, his stormy blue eyes scanning the faces of his many guests, rapidly desperately.

There she was again gazing at him from behind a pillar. He breathed a sigh of relief, excusing himself from the table. Arthur weaved a staggered line through the many guests, offering greetings and accepting congratulations as he made his way across the room.

The elegant pillar was vacant. _Damn _he cursed until he saw her fleeing figure melt into the shadows of the palace corridors. Grinning emphatically Arthur joined her in this game of cat and mouse. Catching glimpses of her smiling face around the corners, behind statues and pillars, until he'd captured her. She stood in his strong arms, the two of them breathing heavily from their chase, and he was once again lost in her gaze. Without words or warning his lips lowered to meet hers and they drifted into a breathtaking kiss. Without breaking their embrace they stumbled backward into a dark corridor. Arthur had never been the type to hook up with a maiden, he was a gentleman, chivalrous; but there was something about this girl. He pinned her against the cold stone wall as he lowered his head to pour kisses over her supple cleavage, her fingers gripping his golden tresses, her soft moans like music to his ears beguiling him spurring him on. He caressed the smooth thighs beneath her heavy dress, slipped a hand into the waistband of her lacy white pantaloons, eliciting lustful moans from her as he gently massaged her clit with his fingertips. Her lips braced the sensitive skin of his neck, her teeth giving him small nips that made him shudder as she pressed her hand against his groin moving it up and down his hard length.

She loosened his sword belt. His weapon fell with a loud metallic clang and they looked around nervously before bursting into giggles of amusement. She lowered to her knees on the hard marble floor lifting his ceremonial shirt kissing down his stomach, following the trail of blonde hairs that lead and disappeared behind his pants. He gasped, his jaw clenching as she pulled his pants down to his ankles, freeing his erection and took him into her mouth; stroking and licking and sucking until he couldn't stand it anymore, until he pulled her up to her full height.

"Arthur," He heard as he slipped her panties down to her ankles.

She pulled one of her feet out and he hoisted her up on his hips, a throaty moan escaping the two of them as he sheathed himself in her warmth; her back knocking against the hard stone wall with every rhythmic thrust as her forgotten panties still dangled from one of her dainty ankles, their tongues melted together in a kiss until she clawed at his shirted back and cried out in climax and he gripped himself and pulled out of her as he spilled his seed on the floor, not surprised that it was Guinevere's face that he saw in this moment of passion. He slowly eased the girl down on her feet, the two of them heaving breathlessly. Arthur tucked himself away and she knelt to pull her panties up over her cold naked bottom.

With passion fading he felt guilty, ashamed of his behavior. _What was I thinking? Was I thinking at all?_ "I'm sorry milady I don't normally treat women like this. I don't even know your name."

Her voice like a song, she purred her name, and that beautiful name would never leave him, "Lamia…"

**Thanx so much for reading Chapter 2. I grew up with the legend of King Arthur as a boy king. But other than in Disney's _Sword in the Stone_. Arthur is never an actual boy king. So I'm throwing out political correctness with this fic. Please let me know what you think.**

**-Embrasia-**


	3. Welcome to Camelot

Welcome to Camelot

It was late in the morning but the skies were an ominous inky black. The unrelenting winds whipped Arthur's golden tresses about his handsome face as he stood upon his spacious stone balcony. The sea was restless and chaotic unlike anything he'd ever witnessed. The powerful winds whipped the waters up into waves higher than houses. Arthur watched with a nagging feeling in the pit of his soul: a shadow of dread warning him of an eminent danger. _Guinevere and Lancelot aren't scheduled to arrive for a few more days. I only pray the storm passes by then. I've heard of such powerful storms devastating the coastlines of distant tropical lands_ _but never have I witnessed one in England. There are dark forces at work here…_

Arthur felt the worn leather bracelet tied loosely around his wrist as the icy breeze chapped his cheeks. It was the bracelet that Guinevere had weaved herself to bring him comfort and hope while he was imprisoned in Morgana's dungeons: the very bracelet that gave him the strength and fortitude to fight another day in the Roman Coliseum. And as he peered out into the perilous storm he found himself once again seeking hope and comfort from the blessed trinket. Arthur brought it to his lips and kissed it. _Guinevere if I could create my own world you would be the queen of it..._

* * *

_Queen Morgana & the Lamia_

"I have done everything you've asked of me! Now when do I get to kill Arthur?!" There was a thunderous boom as Lamia drove her fist into the solid wooden table.

Even Morgana took a shocked step back as the heavy oak furniture splintered and cracked before her eyes.

A large rift formed down the middle of it as Lamia's eyes glowed blazing yellow. Her black pupils elongated to slits, "I have grown tired of smiling in the face of the man who killed my sister!"

Guards burst in. Their gleaming swords at the ready. "We heard a ruckus your majesty!"

Morgana calmly put a hand up, "Everything's fine. You may leave."

One by one the mail clad soldiers nodded and walked out the door. Morgana informed Lamia, "I told you we can't just kill him. Though the nobles do not acknowledge his rule, Arthur is lauded as a hero of the common people. He'll be a martyr if we kill him now! There'll be uprisings! First we must ruin him."

"You're right," Lamia confessed with an utterly frustrated tone. "I've already used my pheromones to lure in the men of Camelot. Fights are already breaking out amongst the knights."

"Good," Morgana chimed, a wicked grin on her lips. "And what of Arthur? Did he fall for your charms as well?"

Lamia's teeth began to grit and grind, "I am a lamia: created from the soul of a serpent and the blood of a mortal maiden, one of the most powerful of all sirens. My pheromones were working as I drew him in from clear across the ballroom and soon I had him. I had him Morgana! And all of a sudden he called me another woman's name and withdrew, as if her love was stronger than my enchantment!"

"What was the name he called you," Morgana questioned frantically.

"Um…" Lamia pondered. "I believe it was _Guinevere.._."

Morgana's face went ghost white, "I'd suggest you bone up on every incantation ever conjured from the old religion, because you'll need everyone one of them to compete with his love for her."

* * *

_Belly of the Beast _

The cold rain fell with such ferocity it seemed to cut the flesh. Or perhaps it was the torn branches and leaves whipping in all directions. Arthur couldn't see more than ten feet in front of him. The destructive powerful winds howled like a wounded beast. Arthur shielded his eyes and braved the mighty Hurricane, with his man servant and a band of castle guards at his back.

"This is suicide Sire!" Called Arthur's servant, Cedric, "We must turn back! Someone has angered the Goddess Calypso, or offended the mighty Poseidon! If we push onward we shall surely die!"

"The scouts saw men shipwrecked on our reef," Arthur yelled over the storm, "What if it's Guinevere?!"

"The Lady Guinevere should not be arriving for many more days," Cedric protested with rain pouring down his face.

Lighting cracked in the distance. Split the sky in two. A great roll of thunder quaked the earth. Arthur scowled amidst the turmoil. "Whether it be Guinevere's ship or not, we mustn't leave them to die! That is not our way."

The bug eyed servant lowered his head. "My apologies Sire."

Arthur huffed and pushed forward fighting against the elements. _I can't wait to get a new man servant. Cedric is spineless and I'm all but certain he steals from me. Trying to leave doomed men to an unimaginable demise; what the bloody hell is wrong with him?!_

Amidst the chaos Arthur found the rolling black sea; a churning, bottomless, caldron_. _The doomed vessel was sinking before his eyes. The tortured screams of its horrified passengers pierced him to the core. _I can't believe anyone would ever consider abandoning them. _

Arthur and his guards let their boats into the water, rowing out to the panicking women aboard the ship. Arthur made numerous trips, rowing them to shore. A woman was blown overboard. He dove in after her. Hit the frigid waters with a splash. The hungry sea swallowed him whole, spat him out, and then ate him again. He couldn't breathe. He was being held under. Not by the current, but by the frightened woman. She was going to drown them both. Arthur pried her off. Surfaced, and gasp for air.

"I'm trying to help you!" He called before she took him under again.

Arthur fought back to the surface. He looked around. Didn't see her. He dove under. Took her limp body into his arms. He swam for his life and hers. For every foot he pushed forward, waves knocked them back three. But Arthur fought on, towing the maiden beneath his arm. _I must survive. My people need me._ A gigantic wave washed over them. They sunk into the abyss. He held his breath as long as he could. What little air he harbored was soon replaced by salt water. It burned his chest, stung his nostrils; choked him without mercy. His unrelenting arms still clutched the damsel as his breathless weakened form was sucked into the _Belly of the Beast…_

* * *

_The Execution of Gaius _

Cenred gripped the hilt of his sword holding it tightly over the physician's neck. The soldiers cheered Cenred on as they anticipated, the brutal and bloody _Execution of Gaius. _

Cenred growled, "You will tell me what poison you slipped into my food, and why. Who are you working for?"

"Not in front of your lackeys," Gaius replied. "I took an oath!"

"You are in no position to make demands!" Cenred hollered. "Tell me now or else your blood will stain these walls!"

"Send them away and I'll tell you," Gaius replied stubbornly in spite of the eminent threat to his life. "As I have already said, I took an oath."

Cenred screamed in frustration and fiery anger, "Leave!"

The solders marched out. Cenred yanked Gaius to his feet by the collar.

"I didn't poison you Sire," Gaius confessed. "I've been slipping medicine into your food for the last few weeks. I'd combined a combination of herbs and chemicals until I found a remedy to treat your condition. "

All the color drained from Cenred's face. He murmured almost to himself. "That's why I suddenly regained my sanity. That's why you refused to confess in front of my guards."

"Doctor patient confidentiality," Gaius admitted. "The oath of Hypocrites forbids me to break it. I fought with you to take your medicine for years Caesar, but you refused. And up till that night I always respected your right to do so. I've never forced medical treatment on anyone until that night."

"What night?" Cenred questioned, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Until the night you thought it would be funny to give your son a pipe full of wild weed and opium, under the guise of harmless tobacco," Gaius berated him. "You could've killed him! I had to intervene after that. So if you're going to kill me then get on with it, because I am not sorry for saving your son from you."

A discombobulated Cenred sheathed his sword, "So if not you then who poisoned me?"

"Isn't it obvious Sire," Gaius snapped.

Cenred paused anticipating the answer.

"You poisoned you," Gaius said in a reprimanding tone. "You are an illicit opium user and drinker. You had so many drinks at Myrddin and Guinevere's wedding, you were walking about serving the soup yourself!"

Cenred snickered at the memory and Gaius chastised him, "It isn't funny Sire. When you left the reception to comfort Freya you had yet more drinks."

"Only one more," Cenred said in his own defense as they walked out of the prison

"Sometimes it only takes one more to exceed your limits milord," Gaius informed him dutifully as they made their way to Caesar's palace.

Cenred took in a deep breath and slowly released it, "Well my children are missing but at least they weren't kidnapped. And though I nearly died, it turned out not to be an assassination attempt. This calls for a drink!"

Gaius slapped his own forehead with his palm releasing an exasperated breath. _He didn't hear a single word I just said_, "Sure sire. Let's be off to the tavern so I can be blamed for the poisoning you inflict upon YOURSELF all over again! Sounds like a bloody good time!"

"I know," Cenred grinned and snatched the British doctor by the arm without taking his chariot or even so much as a bodyguard.

The witch Nimueh pulled the cloak down over her face as she stalked about in the shadows. A wicked grin spread over her full red lips. _Finally they are alone. Now's my time to strike…_

A short while later Cenred and Gaius sat at a table in the corner of a crowded tavern before frothy mugs of ale. Cenred wore common clothes and a hood in order not to be recognized by his subjects. It worked thus far. Since taking his medicine Cenred hadn't felt this good in years. He never saw the General anymore and very rarely heard his voice. It had been the General who'd refused to be medicated over the years, because Gaius' remedy was the only thing that could kill the evil one without also causing Cenred's death.

Cenred paid for another round of drinks, tipped generously, and gulped down the ale, "So Gaius did you ever marry?"

"No," Gaius replied taking a drink. "But I was engaged once as a young man."

"What was her name?"

"Alice," Gaius said forlornly. "I'd just come to Rome from England to study the latest advances in the healing arts. Being a physician was all that ever mattered to me until I met Alice. She was in training to be a physician as well. At first the university didn't want to allow women to attend. But Alice was persistent. She refused to take no for an answer. They had no other choice but to recognize her brilliance. She persevered and won the favor of her male counterparts. And this head strong woman won my heart as well. I asked her to marry me."

"Sounds like you two were a solid match," Cenred said. "You would've been in bliss, not screwing all honeymoon while you studied your boring medical books." Gaius' eyes narrowed as Cenred teased him mercilessly. "How do scientists talk dirty to each other, 'Oh yes give it to me; give me the square root of 229'."

Gaius even snickered at that one, "You act as if it's a crime to be intelligent Sire."

"I'm jesting," Cenred assured him. "But seriously, why didn't you marry her?"

"I'd been recently appointed royal physician. I was ecstatic. I took Alice out to celebrate. That money would allow us to live extremely well, even move up our wedding date," Gaius explained. "But I wasn't aware that your grandparents began to force out the old religion by means of a witch hunt they called the great purge. I saw Alice and her entire family on the list for execution so I tipped them off. And then I spread a rumor of an outbreak of plague in the lower village so that the guards and nobles would wall themselves up and I could busy them all with needless examinations. This bought Alice and her family time to escape, but I never saw her again."

Cenred assured Gaius, "She'll turn up some day."

Gaius took a sip of ale from his large tin mug. Feeling crushed beneath the weight of his emotions he did what Gaius always does and steered the subject toward medicine to numb himself, "How often are you aware of the General's actions?"

Cenred took a good swig and answered, "Maybe 70% of the time. When I was imprisoned in the cage I would go to sleep every night but with nightmares of people being ripped apart by lions or worse. And I'd pray it was just a dream but I knew deep down that he'd actually committed those atrocities. On a few occasions over the years I would regain my sanity just to open my eyes and find some quivering frightened girl wrapped in nothing but a sheet sobbing and cowering in the corner of my bed chamber. When I would walk over to help her, she'd scream and reel at my touch, and at that point I would know it's because I raped her and I don't even remember doing it." Tears began to prick at Cenred's eyes. "I'm just dreading the inevitable day the General completely takes over, and I disappear forever."

"That won't happen Sire. As long as you continue to take your medication regularly and you do not overwhelm yourself, you'll be completely rid of the General within a few months." Gaius vowed, "As long as I live and breathe I'll never allow that demon to destroy you."

* * *

_In the Eye of the Storm_

A hand grabbed a drowning Arthur. Yanked him from the vengeful sea and the watery grave he was surely sworn. Arthur spewed salt water from every hole in his face. He coughed, gagged, and spat hysterically as the man pulled him into the boat. Arthur drug the maiden with him. He hadn't even noticed her still in his clutches and at the point that the misty clouds allowed the moon to cast her glow, it shown upon the unmoving face of his beloved Guinevere.

"Breath! I beg you. Breath!" Arthur clutched her body. Tears welling up in his eyes, "Guinevere! You cannot leave me. I implore you to open your eyes. The death of you would be the death of me."

His forehead fell against hers, his warm tears falling upon her cold unmoving face. The storm calmed as they reached the beach, but it hadn't passed. They were merely in the eye of it. Arthur climbed off the boat into knee deep water, with Guinevere dangling limply in his arms. The sailors all drug the vessel ashore.

Arthur collapsed on the beach the side of his face pressed against hers, longing begging to feel her warm breath on his cheek. He burst into heaving sobs, "Please… don't leave me… Guinevere please..."

* * *

_The Return of Alice_

Gaius was pleasantly shocked to wake up in the presence of a lovely familiar face. She was sitting upon his desk basking in the sheer glow of his presence.

"Alice!" Gaius called leaping from the bed in his office. He ran over to her feeling younger than he had felt in many years. He felt like a teenager as he wrapped her in a long awaited embrace. The two of them stood holding one another in sweet beautiful silence for seconds, minutes.

He breathed into her hair, "I never stopped looking for you. I never stopped loving you."

"I never stopped loving you either," She confessed.

He caressed her cheek and vowed, "You look as lovely as the day we met…" _Wait… Her hair should be gray, not the strawberry blonde of her youth._ Gaius pulled her out at arm's length and looked her up and down, "How is it you haven't aged a day past seventeen? Are you practicing the old religion again?"

He caught a glimpse of his own hands: the skin tight, the age spots gone. He gasped at his reflection in the looking glass. It was now apparent that he felt like a teenager because he was one. His long white hair had returned to the sandy brown of his youth. His face bore the appearance of a man who'd lived to see barely nineteen summers, "You enchanted me!"

Gaius laughed hysterically, "Fine I'll be young for a day if it suits you."

She giggled joyously as he swung her around ecstatically, "I've missed you Gaius."

"And I you," Gaius vowed as he dashed out the door with her.

They ran down the street hand in hand positively elated, before slowing down to admire the sites. Sure he'd seen them all before but everything looked so different now, better when they were together.

"I love you," She said planting a kiss on him.

He kissed her back passionately, not at all surprised or put off by her making the first move. Alice had always been a rather unconventional woman. And her return was the single best thing that had happened to him in forty years.

When they came up for air he asked, "Would you like to go to dinner?"

"I would like to go back to your place, and you can make me dinner," She grinned like a vixen looking up at him seductively.

Gaius shrugged, "These washboard abs won't last forever." They both chuckled as he led her back to his place. Kissing, and fondling, and snatching at each other's coverings as they stumbled through the door...

* * *

_Welcome to Camelot_

Guinevere's bosom began to heave in Arthur's arms. Her coughing was like music to his ears. His heart leapt with utter relief and happiness as her obsidian eyes looked up at him, still wide and frightened from her ordeal; her drenched and freezing body warmed by his strong embrace. Gwen's quivering lips smiled just so, abundantly grateful they were alive and even more appreciative to be in his arms if only for this moment. A pleasurable shiver rolled up Arthur's spine as her cold fingers caressed his cheek, her lovely face gazing into the stormy blue of his eyes as she whispered the only word within her heart and soul, "Arthur."

Her shivering fingers clawing in the moist gritty sand. After nearly drowning, land never felt sweeter to Guinevere. She embraces his cold wet body, transferring her warmth and her love; and Arthur can't tell if her tears are from joy or relief so he asks which.

"Both," Guinevere replies in a voice softer and sweeter than honey.

Arthur wipes her tears smiling wistfully wanting nothing more than to brace her delicious mouth with a kiss. Even in her exhaustion Guinevere was a vision for which he'd brave a second hurricane as her soggy fabrics clung to soft tantalizing curves. Her skin was a golden bronze, with just a hue of crimson, like a heavenly sunrise. He was breathless the first time he gazed upon her lovely Egyptian eyes, the depth of which unfathomable. Those dark glimmering eyes never lost their effect on Arthur, and he found himself once again captivated by her mesmerizing beauty, lost in her stare, yearning to take her with the love, passion, and strength of a man who'd faced off with death mere moments ago; but she was not his. Those luscious lips belonged to another, a friend no less. He sighed settling for a kiss on the forehead as a consolation, her eyes closing dreamily at the feel of his soft warm lips upon her skin, setting her body on fire with tingles.

"Guinevere" he breathed from deep within his soul.

"Yes Arthur," her bosom heaved, her voice like velvet.

Arthur gazed deeply into her eyes with passion and longing, "Welcome to Camelot…"

* * *

_The Morning After_

The following morning Gaius kissed her bare naked shoulder and climbed out of bed. He slipped on a pair of pants and opened his drapes, gazing out into the busy market place. Alice wrapped the sheet around herself and joined him at the window. Her hair a bit tousled from the night before, it did nothing to hamper her loveliness.

"Good morning," She chimed.

He bent his head to place a sweet kiss upon her lips, but as he released her he saw a familiar face in the market, his face. There was an imposter walking by bearing a crystal on a long chain.

"No," Alice pleaded. "Don't confront him!"

But Gaius was already storming out the door. Trudging over. Gaius gasped in horror as his hand went right through the phony doc, who continued to purchase herbs oblivious to his presence.

Alice cried as she appeared abruptly next to him, "You never found me because I died not long after we last saw each other. And you can see me now because, you're dead too, which is why your youth has returned." She wiped her tears sniffling. "I wanted to tell you but you were so happy to see me, I just couldn't bear to do it. Nimueh killed you in order to take your place and see to it Caesar never receives his remedies."

Gaius' mind began to flash with choppy memories of the night before. He fell to his knees as he began to recall the ambush, the siege, his murder…

**I know I'm likely going to be horse whipped for what I just did but please please please trust that it's important. Lol :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	4. Where the Wildflowers Grow

Where the Wildflowers Grow

She had asked to be with him somewhere with mountains, a few fields, wildflowers, and a lake. And Merlin didn't rest until he had found such a special place for Freya. It was right on the outskirts of Camelot; their very own lake house. Though lately he'd spent more nights in the palace servant's quarters than home. Freya pulled up a stool next to the washtub in her tiny cottage. It had been just a week since her husband began working for the royal prat. He was King Arthur's new man servant; which was in Freya's opinion, the absolute hardest job in the kingdom.

It was only noon and she couldn't believe Merlin was dismissed so early, but she was grateful for it even though he had been sent home under bad circumstances. Arthur had fallen from his horse do to the saddle being loosened, and not long after someone had opened the stables and allowed all of Arthur's horses to run amuck about the lower village. Merlin was all but certain these spiteful acts were committed by Arthur's former servant, Cedric. But as the new guy Merlin was the one blamed. Arthur yelled at Merlin harshly and sent him home for the rest of the day. The young warlock had, had a rather trying day but at least he was able to come home to the waiting arms of his wife.

Freya wrung the warm lathery sponge over her husband's shoulders and back. A pleasing, "mmm" escaped Merlin's lips as he sat in the waist deep water with his face and arms resting on his raised knees. He looked delicious naked and wet. She yearned for him to have her but ignored the tingling between her legs. He was so physically and mentally exhausted she dared not even hint at making love. She wanted him to do nothing but rest with his time off.

"I don't know what I would do without you," He said without lifting his head from his knees thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her soapy hands sliding all over his body. He closed his eyes allowing his worries to melt away.  
"Without me you would enjoy the life of a Roman emperor. A life you more than deserve," She said with guilt as she gingerly massaged his scalp lathering up his raven locks. "You'd be much better off."

An exhausted Merlin raised his head and turned to meet her large brown eyes, "Don't ever say that. Working hard only allows for me to further enjoy and appreciate moments like this. Men who don't work hard often take their wives for granted and I never want to make that mistake. I love you Freya."

"And I you," She smiled and bent down to meet his lips in a kiss, "Why did you tell Arthur the prince of Rome died in that hurricane? Why did you change your name to Merlin? If Arthur knew who you truly were I'm certain he would pay you the respect you more than deserve."

"If the only reason that dollop head would see to respect me is due to my birth status than I'm not truly deserving of his respect," Merlin said. "And if Arthur knew who I truly was how could I be certain he wouldn't hand us over to my father?"

"Because he's a prat but an honorable one," Freya replied washing Merlin's chest and belly as he leaned back in the tub, her words muffling as he dipped his head to rinse the soap from his hair.

Merlin smirked as he sat up, water running down his back. "But then again, if Arthur gave us up he'd have to give up Guinevere as well and we both know that will never happen."

"Merlin," Freya gave him a hard poke to the chest. "Guinevere is engaged to Lancelot. He and Arthur are friends, like brothers."

"You saw Gwen and Arthur on the beach that night," Merlin replied in his own defense, "And how broken Arthur was as Lancelot swooped in to take her away."  
"Alright, so the boy king of Camelot has a crush," Freya chuckled. "That means nothing. She's three and a half years older than him."

"And my father was thirteen when he married my nineteen year old mother, but I got here didn't I," Merlin laughed. "Do you think men give a damn about an age difference?"

"I guess not," Freya smiled. "But it's none of our business."

"Of course," Merlin said with a mischievous smirk as he rose to towel himself off. He wrapped himself from the waist down as he stepped out of the tub and then encircled her with his warm moist arms. She smiled against his bare chest as he dropped a kiss into her soft peachy smelling hair.

His eyes filled with worry, "I'm proud of you for saving so many the night of the hurricane but you were blasting through thirty foot waves towing two men at a time as you swam."

She could see where he was headed and kissed his chest sweetly before breathing her words against his moist skin, "I already know you don't want anyone to know I can be under water for hours at a time before running out of breath and that I'm more like a creature of the sea than human but people were dying. And Arthur is not his father. Maybe he will be understanding of people like us. People who were born different."

"I doubt he will if Queen Morgana keeps making people like us look bad," Merlin said as Freya took him by the hand and led him across the room.

There wasn't much to the place: simple inexpensive furniture, a small twin sized bed they now shared. The only thing Merlin insisted upon having that most peasants couldn't afford was a wash tub. He and Freya simply couldn't live without one. Their cozy little cottage was a far cry from the palace chambers of Rome but it was theirs; theirs to be themselves in, theirs to love one another in. This cottage was their haven their freedom. They gazed out through the picture window at the lush green meadows speckled with wildflowers. A hedge of silvery blue mountains capped with snow surrounded this heavenly place, and of course there was the lake that shimmered like diamonds with the morning dawns and evening sunsets.

"I love you Merlin," She spoke intertwining her fingers with his still in disbelief that she could call him her own. "Have you ever seen anything in all the world more beautiful than this place?"

"Everyday," He confessed looking into her eyes gingerly running his knuckles up and down her cheek.

She blushed at the realization he was referring to her. _How does he do it? How does he make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world?_

Like a lion on the prowl Merlin watched her beautiful cherry lips as she laughed and modestly brushed away his complement, her words barely discernible over the pounding of his own heart. Freya possessed creamy white skin curtained by dark wavy tresses that danced about the indent of her waist. She'd traded her dazzling white toga for a Britain style gown, the cranberry material hugging her body like a second skin.

She smiled up at him cheerfully, "So what do you want to do with your afternoon off?"

_Lick every inch of your beautiful body. _He grinned impishly eying the delicious swell of her bosom as it rose and fell with every breath, begging escape from the low cut bodice.

"Merlin," She said as he didn't respond. "What do you want to do today?"

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and her bodice began to unlace itself, a soft laugh escaping Freya as she pushed him down on the bed. Nothing else mattered as long as she was in his arms; the entire world disappeared as their clothes fell like the petals of an autumn rose, making sweet and passionate love to one another in the place _Where the Wildflowers Grow_…

A while later Freya kissed the chest of her snoozing husband. Merlin was practically in a comma, his mouth curved slightly in a satisfied grin. Freya slipped out from under his spindly arm and pulled her slip from the floor the cool material washing over her naked skin as she pulled it on. Merlin would be out for quite a while and now it was time for a swim. As her bare feet padded down the warm wooden planks of their dock her eyes fell upon a blue fairy not much longer than her hand. It made ripples on the lake every time one of its tiny feet skipped over the water. Freya stood in awe as the glorious little creature flew on its dragonfly like wings in her direction, towing a necklace in its grasp. The fairy hovered before her, a beautiful girl of sapphire blue.

"Freya," Said the tiny winged woman as she passed Freya the necklace and stood upon her palm. "Drink the potion hidden within the charm when all seems lost."

"Wait…" Freya called as the blue woman flew from her hand.

"I've already said too much," The fair cried out as she fled.

"Thank you," Freya called after her.

The fairy streaked across the sky praying to the Guardians of Avalon for forgiveness. _I'm not supposed to interfere with mortal affairs but Cenred saved my life. How could I not do the same for his ward when she's in danger? King Arthur's in danger. All of Camelot is in danger… _

**Thanks for reading** **I should be able to post regularly from now on :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	5. Wedding Announcements

Wedding Announcements

After escaping from the Roman Coliseum Arthur had ventured to the disputed lands of his forefathers. Here he came upon a castle that hadn't been occupied in many years. And though Camelot Castle was more of a ruin than a palace it felt like home to Arthur and his knights of the round table. Arthur was usually one to sleep in. Merlin had to drag him out of bed just to get him to training with his knights on time. But today Arthur was up before dawn, fully dressed and impatiently drumming his fingers on the table in his spacious chamber. This was the day of the official wedding announcements and there was no sleep to be had for the once and future king. _How could my signals be so crossed. Guinevere and Lancelot have been together for years. They're meant to be and yet my traitorous heart longs to be loved by her._

Arthur's stomach growled and grumbled like a disgruntled bear, an almost welcome distraction from his thoughts of Gwen. _Where on earth is Merlin with my breakfast?! He needs to polish my armor, shine my boots, make certain the blacksmith shoes my horses. _

"MERLIN!"

xXx

_The Blacksmith_

Merlin stood in the bustling kitchen that morning. Serving men and chambermaids buzzed about collecting breakfast plates from the palace chefs. A heavy set woman with a few strands of brown hair escaping a beige turban helped Merlin prepare Arthur's meal.

He took two of the sausages and wrapped them in a napkin as soon as he was out of the kitchen. Freya's appetite had picked up lately and she often became dizzy when she spaced her meals too far apart. Merlin took two steps at a time until he made it to the prat's floor. He whipped around the corridors weaving between women balancing silver platters of food and drink, others with baskets of fresh white linens for the beds.

Merlin knocked on the fourth chamber door on the right, "Sire."

"Well it's about time," Arthur called from the other side of the door and Merlin took that as an invitation to enter.

Merlin sat the platter before Arthur with a large infectious grin.

Arthur stared at the plates and bowls. Something was missing from his usual breakfast, "Where are the sausages?"

"Can't have you getting fat," Merlin chimed.

"I'm fighting fit!" Snapped Arthur

"See its working," Merlin replied barely making it out the door before Arthur whipped an apple at him.

Merlin ran into Freya on Guinevere's floor. She smiled brightly as he took her into his wiry arms and swung her around. She never tired of the way he greeted her. _He acts as if he doesn't see me almost every day_. _I'm the luckiest girl in the world._

As he sat her down he passed her the napkin full of food.

"I'd rather not," She said.

"Please," He insisted. "You were sick this morning. I'm beginning to worry. Have you seen the physician?"

"I'm sure it'll pass," Freya said.

Merlin placed the napkin in her hand with an expectant look, "Please Freya."

It did smell good. She smiled at him, "Alright just a bite. It's delicious."

"I hope so. It's fit for a king," He jested.

"Merlin! You can't…"

He silenced her words with a steamy kiss before turning to leave.

"You're leaving," She questioned with sadness and disappointment.

"I have to but I'll be back," He swore.

Freya put her head down and he lifted her chin until she met his large blue eyes.

"You know I'll be back right," He insisted and she nodded with a smile.

He kissed her cheek sweetly before running off to the royal blacksmith for Arthur. Merlin entered the forge not long later. Sparks flew as a muscular man of average height stood pounding a red hot piece of steel into a sword. He possessed shorn black hair and emerald green eyes. Merlin grimaced. He didn't like this blacksmith at all. Merlin had often caught this handsome young metal worker staring at Freya and smiling at her, always finding excuses to talk to her about absolutely nothing.

"The king needs his horses shoed," Merlin snapped.

"The king also needs his sword. As do his knights," The man replied in an equally nasty tone.

Merlin growled, "They already have swords!"

"Well these are special!" The blacksmith rebutted.

"And what makes your swords so much more special than the next metal worker's?" Merlin said.

The blacksmith laughed without humor, "What have you got against me?"

"I already said I don't like the way you look at my wife," Merlin admitted.

"Freya and I have a connection but it isn't what you think," The man swore with sincerity in his large green eyes.

As Merlin turned to leave the blacksmith called, "By the way, Cedric is the one you should be watching out for. King Arthur fired him after waking up and finding his keys were missing. Arthur discovered Cedric snooping around in the palace vaults looking for god knows what. The king threw him in the stocks and the day Cedric was released Arthur mysteriously fell from his steed. Cedric is an ambitious thief who will cut your throat to get his position back."

Merlin nodded, not completely trusting the blacksmith but trying to take a step on faith.

"Thanks for the warning," Merlin called.

The man nodded respectfully and Merlin walked out the door. The blacksmith turned to the numerous swords suspended from the ceiling of his forge. He'd been busy for weeks preparing for what was to come. He felt like the walking dead but he had to maintain. Had to finish these special swords. He took in the deepest breathe he could conjure from the pit of his soul, an earth trembling roar escaping him as he transformed the breath into flames. He turned his head to and fro breathing fire on this batch of swords until he ran out of air and fell to his knees exhausted. This form was weak, it tired easily. It had to be fed everyday and laid to rest at night. But he smiled in spite of his exhaustion. _These swords are now forged in the dragon's breath for the battle to come. The only weapons capable of killing that which is already dead…_

Merlin whipped around as the ground trembled beneath his feet. These small quakes had been occurring for weeks. He wasn't sure why. All Merlin knew was that the ruckus was coming from the forge. _What on earth is he doing in there? That Kilgharrah is a peculiar one…_

xXx

_Wedding Announcements_

Merlin and Freya didn't need jobs. They had left Rome with enough money to live off of for a few years, but in order to keep up the appearance of commoners they had to work. Freya was summoned to court the day after her visit from the fairy and asked to be Guinevere's companion and maid. Elena had volunteered for this position on the voyage over but after her lover died in the hurricane she needed some time to recover.

Guinevere grimaced at the overcast sky outside of her chamber window, "I'm bored out of my mind." She confessed as she and Freya sat in rocking chairs by the fire place doing needle point.

"Is it just me or does it rain every other day here!" Freya laughed.

Gwen chuckled and soon an "Ouch" escaped her mouth.

"Are you alright milady," Freya questioned with concern. "It's the fourth time you've pricked yourself this hour."

Freya was right. Gwen was distracted but how could she not be with Arthur's image popping into her head as she made love to Lancelot.

"I just loath needle point that's all," Gwen said giving up on the task and sitting the fabric aside.

Freya joked as she pulled another stitch through, "Though I sincerely thank milady for my position here, are you certain you wouldn't prefer an actual maiden to be your maid?"

"To be perfectly honest I'm in need of the council of a married woman since I am soon to be married myself," Gwen confessed.

Freya nodded modestly, "I'm not sure how much assistance I can be. I haven't been married long but I'll try my best. After all, it was wonderful of you to keep Myrddin and my identity a secret."

"Of course," Gwen smiled squeezing Freya's hand momentarily. But soon the smile faded from her lovely face.

"Milady," Freya urged Gwen after an endless hesitation.

Gwen took a deep breath, "I've always known the king as 'little Arthur': the wide eyed boy always tagging along behind Lancelot and Morgana. But that night on the beach he looked at me in a way that… I'm being ridiculous." Gwen shrugged it off. "I'm sure he was probably just happy to see me alive."

"Or… he wanted a piece of you," Freya said.

Gwen gasped a hue of crimson emerging in her cinnamon cheeks, "No… Arthur's a good boy."

"I know he is," Freya assured her. "But do you honestly believe he's still an innocent?"

Gwen had never really given it much thought. She'd lost her innocence at Arthur's age. _Is it possible he's a man now? Is it possible he wanted to have me on that beach?_ "What's the fastest way to get over an infatuation? I'm getting married. I haven't time for foolish fancies."

Freya's answer shocked Gwen. "Kiss him."

"I beg your pardon," Gwen said.

Freya confessed, "I once had the hugest crush on a young man named Daniel and one day I kissed him: just a small peck on the lips, nothing huge."

"And," Gwen urged.

Freya made a disgusted face, "It was about as pleasing as kissing my grandfather. I saw there was no chemistry and the infatuation ceased."

Worry and guilt filled Gwen's eyes, "You don't think a kiss would be a betrayal of Lancelot?"

"Pledging to love him and no other before you know if you can would be a betrayal of Lancelot," Freya answered still stitching at her needle point.

Gwen smiled rising from her seat, "You're right Freya. What's the worst that could happen? I kiss Arthur, find out there's no chemistry, and then this awkwardness ends between us. If I'm truly meant to spend the rest of my life with Lancelot, and I am, then one kiss shouldn't do any harm. Thank you."

Freya nodded respectfully, "You're more than welcome milady."

Guinevere searched high and low for Arthur. He was nowhere to be seen. She was ready to give up when at last she saw two stormy blue eyes approaching her, a smile lighting the drab look on his face at the vision of Guinevere in her signature lavender. She wanted to run into his arms but approached formally as expected of a lady of the court.

She dipped into a deep curtsy, "Milord."

"Guinevere," He bowed low to kiss her hand sending tingles clear up her arm. "I've been searching everywhere for you."

"And I you Milord," She informed him as he took her by the hand the two of them hurrying down the corridor.

Gwen's heart leapt. She grinned brightly as she scurried into a room behind him, full ready to lay her kiss upon his gorgeous lips. The smile faded from her face as she saw all the people waiting inside including Lancelot. Every knight, lord, and lady in the kingdom was standing in anticipation.

Lancelot walked over meeting Gwen with a charming smile and a peck on the lips. She took her fiancé's arm as Arthur took center stage.

Arthur cleared his throat and a hush swept over the crowd, "I Arthur, King of Camelot have gathered you here today to announce my betrothal to Princess Lamia of Nemeth."

Gwen's jaw dropped as the slender dark haired woman rose to take Arthur's hand. Gwen felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. He'd knocked the wind out of her.

"Gwen," Lancelot whispered sternly. "Clap honey. You're being rude."

Gwen couldn't breathe let alone clap. When at last she caught her breath she willed her petrified arms to move in feeble applause. Arthur continued on talking about an alliance between the kingdoms as well as disputed lands and other things. But Gwen couldn't hear a word he was saying. She watched his lips move but it was as if they made no sound. She was in a trance. The only words repeating in her disbelieving mind:

"Betrothal…"

"Betrothal…"

"Betrothal…"

At last Arthur finished his wedding announcements and the crowd congregated over wine and finger foods with subtle music playing in the back ground.

"One moment please," Gwen said.

"Of course," Lancelot replied releasing her dainty arm to kiss her hand.

She curtseyed and excused herself at once. It was informal for her to approach the king without first being summoned or announced but at the moment she didn't give a damn. She weaved through the throne room on a mission.

"Guinevere," Arthur smiled as she approached the throne, his fiancé proudly sitting at his right side already looking comfortable on the throne, the fingers of their joined hands intertwined.

Gwen held back her tears as she curtseyed and addressed the future queen of Camelot respectfully, "Milady." Lamia nodded and then Gwen turned to Arthur, "May I have a word in private Milord…"

**Please let me know what you think of the story so far, as well as suggestions for characters to be introduced. Your opinions really help with my writers block. Thank you for reading chapter 5 :^) **

**-Embrasia-**


	6. Alone Never Truly Means Alone

Alone Never Truly Means Alone

Gwen had asked to have a word in private with the king but she knew very well that alone never truly meant alone when dealing with royals. Though young she and Arthur were both of marrying age now. To be discovered completely alone would tarnish the fair Guinevere's reputation and Arthur would never have that. Also the knights of the round table were like a brotherhood and Arthur may begin to lose the loyalty of those sworn to protect him if word spread of him betraying his own champion. For Arthur and Gwen the time of private chats had ended forever.

Guinevere's hands shook anxiously as she sat in the parlor next to Freya. Gwen asked her maid, "Why on earth did I ask to speak with Arthur?! I certainly can't kiss him now. He's betrothed."

"Milady," Freya took her hands to calm the shaking. "Betrothed is not the same as married. Neither of you are married. You have every right to tell King Arthur how you feel."

"And how am I to do that in front of an audience," Gwen rebutted.

"Not an audience Lady Guinevere, just Merlin and me," Freya assured her.

Gwen nodded trying to think up any other excuse for begging an audience with the king. "How can I confess that he's my first thought every morning and my final prayer every night? How can I tell my betrothed's best friend that I think I'm falling in love with him? And How could this happen after all Lancelot and I have been through together? My feelings for Arthur can't be true when I've loved Lancelot since I was thirteen! And yet when I'm near Arthur I find myself questioning if I'm meant to be with Lancelot or if I'm just use to him. Have I lost my mind?!"

"How did you come to realize you loved Lancelot," Freya asked in order to take Gwen's mind off of Arthur so she wouldn't be a mess by the time he arrived.

As Freya guessed, thoughts of Lancelot calmed Gwen right away. Lancelot was comfortable, safe, a relationship that made sense and wasn't so messy and complicated as a union with Arthur would be. Guinevere had no desire to cause a rift between friends and comrades. She had even less desire to be queen.

Gwen told Freya, "To be perfectly honest Lancelot and I never had any interest in one another. He was engaged to a woman his own age and saw me as little more than a child."

"What changed," Freya questioned.

"Three and a half years ago Caesar and Nimueh attacked Ealdor in search of Arthur," Gwen explained. "Lancelot shuffled Arthur into the orphanage and told him not to give anyone his true identity no matter what. When Lancelot was captured he refused to give up Arthur. So Nimueh took Lancelot hostage. When facing certain death one has a lot of time to think about what's important. After Morgana paid his ransom and brought him home. Lancelot ended things with his betrothed and asked to spend the rest of his life with me." Guinevere sighed from deep within. "I must think of some other excuse to tell Arthur for meeting him today. This is crazy. We're both getting married."

"Yes milady," Freya said noncommittally.

"What," Gwen asked.

Freya shook her head no, "I know my place and I do not wish to offend."

"I need honesty Freya," Gwen said. "Not a puppet who will agree with all I say. Honesty is why I chose you."

"Very well," Freya nodded. "It seems milady expects for love to always follow rules, and make sense, and be simple when its rarely any of those things. Love is the most painful, wonderful, ugly, beautiful thing in the world. It makes no sense and perfect sense at the same time. And it follows no one's rules. Love is the most powerful force in the universe. The god's themselves could not control love. How do you expect us mere mortals to?"

"I wish I could," Gwen confessed.

"Don't we all," Freya smiled. "If I could control love Merlin would be sitting on a throne with a crown of golden leaves, not playing man servant to the prat king of Camelot."

Guinevere snickered, "I think it's time the king and I had an honest conversation."

xXx

_Honest Conversation_

"Merlin!" Arthur bellowed, "What on earth is taking you so long?"

Merlin huffed as he buffed the leather boots with his rag, "I already shined your boots. But you insisted on wearing a different pair that makes you look taller for your meeting with Lady Guinevere." Merlin tucked the cloth in his back pocket and shoved the boots at Arthur before an inquisitive grin lit his slender face. "They do say love makes you do strange things. Why can't you just admit your feelings for Gwen? Its so obvious a blind man can see it. Is it really so hard to admit you like her? Just say it."

"I can't!" Arthur bellowed as he bent forward to don his boots. He rose and spoke with flailing arms, "How can I admit that I think about her all the time, or that I care about her more than anyone? How can I admit that I don't know what I'll do if any harm comes to her?"

"Why can't you?" Merlin questioned with concern.

"Because nothing can ever happen between us!" Arthur snapped. "To admit my feelings knowing that… hurts too much. Merlin what's the fastest way to get over an infatuation? I'm getting married. I haven't time for foolish fancies."

"You're not going to like what I have to say," Merlin replied.

"I'm desperate Merlin. I'll try anything," Arthur said.

"You're going to have to kiss her."

Arthur shook his head vigorously, "I'll try anything but that. Wouldn't a kiss be a betrayal of Lancelot?"

"Allowing Sir Lancelot to wed a woman he may later find in your bed would be a betrayal of Lancelot," Merlin informed him.

Arthur fell silent, a hue of crimson rising in his cheeks, a clear indication that he knew it was a possibility, "Gwen is a good girl Merlin."

"I know she is," Merlin assured Arthur. "Having desires doesn't make her a bad girl, it merely makes her human."

Arthur nodded, "I think it's time the Lady Guinevere and I had an honest conversation. To the slip chamber."

"Why do you call it that," Merlin asked as they made their way out of Arthur's chamber and into the hall.

"You'll see," Arthur grinned impishly.

Idling servants parted way, curtsying and bowing as Arthur made his way down the hall. "Good day Your Grace."

"Your majesty"

"Milord"

Arthur nodded politely as he made his way through his retinue of admirers with the confident gate of a king until he reached the slip chamber and his legs took on the steadiness of speghetti noodles. He ceased before the heavy door, took a moment to collect himself before knocking three times. Arthur found Freya's smiling face behind the door.

"Milord," She curtseyed and stepped aside allowing the men to enter.

"Sire," Guinevere greeted next, "My sincerest thanks for granting me this audience."

"There's no need for formalities among friends, Guinevere," Arthur said as he made his way over to the wardrobe.

The others looked on with confusion as he tossed the clothing aside and pushed the back panel of the wardrobe. It opened into a separate smaller room that no one else knew about.

Arthur signaled to the servants, "Merlin Freya if you would be so kind."

Freya nodded and stepped through the secret door immediately. A disappointed look covered Merlin's face. He was inquisitive by nature, almost nosey.

"Melin!" Freya yelled as she snatched him through by his blue neck scarf.

Guinevere willed her hands to steady. _The concept of_ _speaking in front of others had made me nervous but being alone with Arthur makes my every sense fire at once. _"Perhaps we should call the others back."

"What for," Arthur smiled taking her by the hand and leading her over to a plush elegant lounge. "I thought you yearned for a private conversation."

"Well… Um… Alone never truly means alone when dealing with royals," Gwen smiled nervously as they sat before a cocktail table with many different games on it. "This was a mistake."

Arthur gently grabbed her hand as she rose to flee. And she slowly lowered to her seat. Arthur smiled pleasantly without releasing her hand, his gaze locked on her lovely Egyptian eyes as he said, "If we can't have one honest conversation what sort of friends are we?"

Gwen agreed but no one wanted to go first. After several minutes of awkward silence Gwen picked up a small wooden cup and placed two dice in it. Arthur could hear the cubes rattling as she shook them up.

"We'll take turns," Gwen proposed. "If I roll a higher number you must make a confession. If you win the roll then I'll make a confession."

"Sounds fair,"Arthur agreed. "Ladies first."

Gwen rolled a six and a four.

"Bugger," Arthur said under his breath. _Ten is a hard roll to beat._

Pleased with herself, Gwen passed him the cup with a smirk. Arthur shook up the dice and let them fly. They bounced over the table until the first one landed on five. Soon the second die stopped rolling.

Gwen's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the six black dots atop it, "An eleven! Are you serious?!"

Arthur chuckled with a shrug, "I'll make the first question an easy one. Do you have feelings for me Guinevere?"

After a pause that seemed to span a mortal lifetime she uttered one word that destroyed his perfect world, "Yes."

Arthur couldn't breathe. She'd knocked the wind out of him. All the color drained from his handsome face.

"You're disappointed," Gwen said with tears in her eyes. "You yearned for my answer to be no."

"Its not like that," Arthur said once he'd finally gathered words. "It's just… My life was simpler when I thought things were one sided."

"You have feelings for me too," Gwen questioned.

"Of course," Arthur said. "How could I not?"

He passed her the cup and she rolled a six and a two. Arthur took his turn. "Damn… Snake eyes," He called as he peered at the single lowly dot on each cube.

Without hesitation Gwen asked, "Do you love Princess Lamia?"

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. "I feel drawn to her. And it's my duty to wed her."

"I understand," Gwen assured him taking another roll of the dice. Arthur's roll was lower so Gwen spoke with a devilish grin, "Tell me something I don't already know."

Arthur grinned and bit his lip, "When I was Lancelot's ward I use to hear the two of you. The walls were quite thin at the cottage."

Gwen gasped and covered her face with her hands. _How humiliating_, "Oh gods! Are you disgusted by me?"

"Not at all," Arthur pulled her hands down. "Please don't hide your beautiful face Guinevere." He brushed her soft cheek with his knuckles. His sweet lips grazed her ear as he whispered. "You use to make the most beautiful passionate sounds. And I would please myself dreaming it was me making love to you, praying for just one chance to make you sound like that. I would give heaven and earth to make you sound like that. Are you disgusted by me?"

"Not at all," She confessed as his words set her body on fire.

She couldn't dare look upon his face after such a provocative revelation so she looked down which was a greater mistake. Thoughts of bedding her had made a tent of his pants and she could no longer deny that he wanted to fuck her on that beach. She hadn't even noticed his arms were now wrapped around her. It felt so natural to be in his embrace she wanted needed for him to slip off her undergarments and have her right their on the lounge.

Their foreheads pressed together, their mouths just inches apart Arthur asked without opening his eyes, "May I have just one more confession from you?"

"Of course," She replied breathing heavier than intended.

He pushed aside his guilt remembering the words of his man servant. _I must get over this woman and this is the only way I know how. I'm sorry Lancelot…_ "Guinevere will you be angry if I kiss you?"

His very words sent a tingle up her spine, "If I kiss you back would you find me wanton?"

"Of course I won't find you wanton," Arthur drew in a deep breath releasing it slowly. _Why couldn't she have just said no! At least then I could claim to have tried! Can I really do this? Am I capable of kissing the woman of my best friend?_

She shivered in his arms as his lips lowered to brace hers, ready to give her what they'd denied themselves for so long.

Merlin and Freya burst forth from the wardrobe at the deafening bing of alarm bells. Arthur and Gwen jumped apart at once. They leapt to their feet realizing alone never truly means alone when dealing with royals.

"Take cover!" Arthur told the women as he ran toward the door with his sword at the ready.

Merlin filed out behind him full ready to reveal his magic if that's what it took to secure the kingdom from the clutches of the witch Morgana. Because those thunderous bells only meant one thing: Camelot was under Attack….

**Thanks for reading chapter 6! :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	7. The Seige

The Seige

Morgana Pendragon had every intention of taking over Camelot but not today. She couldn't have Arthur's subjects rising against her. She first had to shame him, ruin him so his people would yield to her: their rightful queen. Morgana's plan had been simple. Infiltrate Camelot with the help of Lamia and injure all of Arthur's knights in order to embarrass Camelot and its king at tournament. Arthur had entered the tournament with his comrades to prove his worth and honor to the other four kingdoms. With no knights to compete Camelot would be forced to either withdraw or contend poorly. Either way it would bring shame upon the once and future king; losing him the respect and loyalty of his subjects. Most of the other kingdoms sided with Morgana, Uther's rightful heir. Arthur's illegitimacy left him in great need of allies which was the main reason he sought a marriage with Princess Lamia.

A plethora of broken and injured knights lay groaning in agony at Morgana's feet. She weaved through the throne room in her flowing black dress blasting bolts of fire and ice and all she could conjure at Lancelot.

"Would you just die already!" Morgana bellowed as she shot another wave of energy from her hands. She caught him in the chest. He sailed through the air and collided with the pillar. Slid down leaving a nasty red streak on the marble.

Morgana scowled as she stormed over. _I hadn't planned on killing any of the knights. I needed them to be just healed enough to compete poorly; but Lancelot has been a thorn in my side for too bloody long!_

"Morgana," Lancelot called as she walked over mustering the strength to execute him. "We were friends were we not?! I was your champion!"

"That was before you switched your allegiance to Arthur and ran off with my ward!" A ball of blue energy hovered at her palm, electricity zipping throughout it.

Lancelot yelled with great fortitude, "How could you expect my loyalty when you've changed?!"

"As did you! I warned you to stay away from Gwen!" Morgana growled. "There's a special circle of hell for betrayers like you."

Lancelot could barely keep his eyes open he had lost so much blood. She raised her hand to strike him dead. His heart pounded forcefully against his ribcage, his every sense heightened at the dreadful revelation that this was the end for him...

xXx

Gwen and Freya had been told to take cover but how could they when the tortured screams of Arthur's knights echoed from the high castle walls. Gwen made her way down the corridor lunging and slicing at Morgana's soldiers as she trudged forward. The clanging of steel against steel rang in Freya's ears as she followed close behind Gwen. Freya was amazed at just how skilled Gwen was with a sword she'd never seen a woman fight like the Lady Guinevere.

At last they made it outside into the frigid air. The white snow was stained with dark red blood. Within a month's time the weather had gone from tropical storms to non-stop rain to a whiteout blizzard. Gwen could feel from the depths of her soul that there were dark forces at work.

Gwen charged into the snow storm, right in the heart of the battle. Freya screamed and fought and kicked as two men grabbed her. Before Guinevere could save her helpless maid Freya conjured the icy laden waters to rise from the bird baths. Gwen's eyes grew as round as saucers as the water drifted through the air and encircled the heads of Freya's captors. They dropped Freya at once. Fought to splash the waters from their faces. The drowning men fell to their knees and then collapsed on the ground, before the waters relented.

"You…You… have magic," A stunned Guinevere stammered.

"No I just really have a connection with water," Freya heaved. "Behind you!"

Guinevere whipped around. A horde of armed skeletons emerged on the snowy horizon, their sword belts still hanging from the fleshless bones of their shifting hips. Their bony fingers curled around razor sharp swords. Gwen shuddered and stepped backward. She didn't know what to do. Frey certainly couldn't drown the undead and Gwen would not be able to slay them...

xXx

Lamia fought to hold back a satisfied grin as she weaved her way through the chaos. The attack had created the perfect diversion for her to gratify her insatiable appetite. The Lamia feasted on human flesh but ever sense Arthur had announced their betrothal she'd been under a microscope, rendered incapable of resuming her hunting activities. She trudged in the direction of the school house where the women and children were hiding. _Its been ages since I've had a descent meal and children are a wonderful delicacy. Their bones are still soft, their meat so tender. _Lamia's mouth began to salivate as she pondered just who would be devoured first…

A mighty dragon flew throughout the melee roasting the undead swordsmen, turning them to ash. The creature was riddled with arrows. Blood dripped from its florescent scales but it fought onward. A hefty chain with three steel balls shot from an enemy cannon. It sailed up into the sky, wrapped around the dragon's hind leg, anchoring it to the ground.

The ensnared creature anxiously flapped its wings in the air. His heavy voice entered Freya's mind telepathically, "Slay the serpent Freya. Slay her and save Camelot."

At that moment Freya turned to see the horrifying beast through the school window. The brown colored monster possessed the head of a squid with razor sharp teeth and flailing tentacles. It was hurling desks and chairs with the force of a tornado to get to the children. The boys and girls were running for their lives, screaming in horror. Freya and Gwen bolted to save the children. Neither knowing how they'd defeat the gigantic monster. Then Freya remembered what the blues fairy said: take the potion when all seems lost. Freya had held on to the potion though she was skeptical of drinking it. For all she knew Cenred might have sent that fairy to kill her. She couldn't put anything past Caesar. Half of him loved her more than anyone else in the world but the other half hated her with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. A prophetic friend had already warned her he was destined to bring about her doom. Freya grimaced as she gripped the tiny vial. _Potion or Poison a one letter difference between life and death. _

They were certain to die if she didn't do something. She snatched the vial from around her neck and yanked out the cork out. Freya swallowed all of its bitter tasting contents with one gulp. As pain tore through her and she collapsed on the freezing wet snow she realized she'd been poisoned…

xXx

Amidst the melee Arthur fought ferociously with the sword while Merlin inconspicuously used his magic. Merlin couldn't believe how well the slave boy from the Roman Coliseum had become at wielding the blade. Arthur made it look like a beautiful dance as he blocked and spun, and lunged at the enemy with Excalibur. The very sword Morgana had imprisoned him for pulling from the legacy stone.

As they battled Merlin noticed that most of the soldiers were completely ineffective against the skeleton warriors. Only the ones who'd brought their new swords were capable of destroying these beings of magic. In fact Arthur's was the only old sword that was effective against them.

Merlin was now aware of what the blacksmith meant by "special swords". _He must be a seer like the witch Morgana; how else would the blacksmith know Queen Morgana would raise an army of the undead. Love him or hate him, Kilgharrah just might save Camelot…_

xXx

"Freya!" Gwen screamed amidst the turmoil.

Freya squealed in agony as her arms were growing enormous, her canines elongating, shiny black hair began to sprout all over her body. Within seconds she'd morphed into a giant winged panther, those of the old religion called a bastet. The tattered remains of her shredded cranberry dress rained from her coarse raven fur. When Guinevere picked her jaw up off the ground she gathered the frightened women and children. Gwen fended off the skeletons while the others ran for cover.

Freya ran as fast as her massive paws would carry her. The wind whipped over her shining coat. Gwen looked up at the shatter of glass. The Freya-beast had crashed through the window, tackling the Lamia. The serpent rolled, kicked her attacker off forcefully. The bastet flew into the wall, fell painfully on her side. Freya lept back onto her paws. She gave Lamia an agonizing swipe with her gleaming claws. The serpent monster squealed in pain and hurled her to the ground. Freya released a thunderous growl of agony as the Lamia sank her sharp fangs into her hind quarter. As Freya felt the venom coursing through her veins she knew not if it would kill or paralyze her. All she knew is that she was starting to feel woozy. The room was beginning to spin. She had to act fast.

The Lamia hissed and squealed as Freya clamped down on her scaly neck with her powerful panther jaw. Freya leaped through the broken window, towing the flailing serpent. They landed on the blood stained snow. Freya took off running, flapping her enormous bat-like wings until she felt the ice cold wind beneath them. She felt herself being lifted, sailing as she took flight. She pushed her wings harder faster, flying straight up toward the heavens. Once the battling soldiers became as small as ants to her large cat eyes Freya relaxed her mighty jaw and allowed the Lamia to fall. Lamia screamed and flailed her tentacles! She came hurdling to the earth. There was a horrible nasty crack as she collided. The earth rumbled as she created a gigantic crater. Much to Freya's dismay this creature of magic was strong. The Lamia-serpent limped out of the crater with little more than a broken ankle and lost herself in the woods.

Freya landed but she couldn't go after her. The venom had made her too weak to fight on. The groggy panther beast ran in the direction of her lake house. Being on foot took much less strength and effort than flying. She prayed the serpent's venom was something that would wear off and that she hadn't been poisoned to death...

xXx

A hand fell over Morgana's mouth before she got a chance to strike Lancelot dead. She heard an accented voice whisper in her ear, "Sleep."

She willed herself to fight the enchantment falling over her like a blanket of darkness but her body began to feel tired, so very tired. Her every limb felt as if it were made of led. As the ball of energy in her clutches shrank and flickered out like a candle she caught a blurry glimpse of the bald man in purple robes, a gray cloak about his shoulders. And she knew just from the tattooed markings that encircled his neck that he was a high priest and warrior of the old religion.

"You're a Catha," She declared in her delirium before drifting out of consciousness.

As a high priest Alatar knew very well that every enchantment had a source. As Morgana fell so did her malicious army of the undead. Cheers of triumph rang throughout Camelot as the skeleton warriors became nothing but piles of lifeless bones and ashes.

xXx

With Alatar bringing the battle to an end Arthur along with Merlin and Gwen's cousin Elyan crept stealthily through the forest surrounding Camelot. Arthur had seen the serpent beast flee in this direction and knew he had to kill it. He'd slain one before after the town's people reported a six year old girl killed by the monster. This thing was a child eater and had to be dealt with right away.

"Arthur!"

He ran toward the frightened voice of his betrothed.

"Lamia!" He dropped at her side at once. Her shoulder was bleeding and she was clutching a bruised purple leg. Her right foot had swollen to twice its normal size.

"My ankle," Tears ran down her cheeks. She cried out between heaving sobs, "The… the… These monsters attacked the shelter where the women and children were hiding. I got hurt. I thought I would die. I left the others. I feel so ashamed."

"You did the right thing to run," Arthur assured her as he wrapped his arms around the quivering girl. "You wouldn't have stood a chance against those two horrible beasts."

She nodded, sniffling and wiping her tears, "I love you Arthur."

Her words pierced the heart of Arthur. He felt like a bastard. _While I was plotting to kiss my best friend's girl my own betrothed was brutally attacked and I wasn't there to protect her. What kind of king does that make me?! What kind of man does that make me?_

Arthur slowly and gingerly elevated her puffy ankle to his lips and placed a tender kiss upon it. He felt awful. _If I'd been protecting my own girl rather than lusting for my friend's betrothed this never would have happened._

"It already feels better," Lamia smiled despite her intense pain.

Merlin and Elyan cautiously waited to assist. Arthur had been known to bite the head off of anyone who interrupted him and his betrothed. But she was hurt in this case. Merlin had no choice but to interrupt.

Merlin knelt to assist her, "Back in Rome I followed my court physician around quite a bit. I can help."

Lamia released a series of high pitched screams and reeled at Merlin's touch.

"Get away from her Merlin!" Elyan yelled in a ferocious tone Merlin had never heard him use before.

A wide eyed Merlin pulled the blue cloth from around his neck, "Here use my scarf."

Arthur nodded and accepted the strip of material, wrapping his betrothed's ankle to the best of his ability. A guilt ridden Arthur forced a smile for his future queen. She had a hold on him; that he could not deny. _This must be what love feels like, _"I love you too Lamia. I'll never leave your side again."

xXx

The Freya beast never made it to the lake house. She was being held at bay in the lower village. She yearned to cry out to her comrades and friends as she found herself being backed into a corner by a determined Arthur and his guards. But her pleas of innocence came out a thunderous roar.

Merlin froze mid step. There was something about this creature's eyes, something so beautiful and familiar in the giant panther's eyes. He came running as Arthur raised his sword in the air, "Arthur NOOOO!"


	8. The Elopement of Guinevere Leodegrance

**Author's note: I made a deal with Blissfulbeauty84 to update my fic more often in exchange for updates of her totally awesome story The Vengeful Wench. Thank you for an incredible fic. A pirate's life for me! I'd also like to give a shout out to Sacred3, KshMcKenzie08, & Whitecrossgirl for your awesome character recommendations. Thank you so much! If anyone would like to swap updates with me in regard to this story or **_**The League of Falcons **_**let me know because I totally lack motivation lol :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Elopement of Guinevere Leodegrance

"Arthur NOOOO!" Merlin screamed from the depths of his soul but it was too late.

Pain seared through Freya as Arthur stabbed her with Excalibur. The soldiers whipped around as they heard an ear shattering wail of agony even louder than that of the bastet. It was Kilgharrah. He'd transformed back into human form in order to be small enough to escape his chains. Kilgharrah unsheathed his sword. He blocked Arthur's next blow.

"Out of my way blacksmith!" Arthur shouted as Kilgharrah matched him blow for blow.

"I won't let you kill her!" Screamed the fire breather.

As Kilgharrah fought off Arthur and his soldiers Merlin's eyes glowed as if they were on fire. Merlin shouted an incantation of the old religion. A gargoyle statue went hurdling to the ground. Arthur leaped from its path. It smashed into large chunks allowing time for the gravely injured bastet to limp away and take flight. Merlin and Kilgharrah took off running in the direction of the lake house. Arthur and the guards were hot on their trail.

"Why did the two of you distract me? I could have slain it!" Arthur said as they ran.

"It's Freya! Your wicked sister must have cast a spell on her! " Merlin yelled running at full speed. "You might have just killed my wife if not for Kilgharrah!"

"Oh god… Oh god…" Arthur stammered. He made a statue of himself.

Merlin skid to a stop, ran back, and grabbed his arm. He told the distraught king in the calmest voice he could conjure, "Just focus on getting to her in time. I can't lose her Arthur. I just can't."

xXx

_Leaving Camelot_

It was the largest pool of blood Guinevere had ever seen. Salty tears poured between her quivering lips biting at her tongue as she tried to convince herself at least some of this scarlet river belonged to someone else. She quit lying to herself and slowly stepped forward. She dropped to her knees in the warm puddle keening loudly as she cradled her fallen Lancelot. _Had I been fighting alongside my betrothed rather than trying to kiss his best friend this never would have happened! I love you Lancelot. Please… please… come back to me._

She knew no mortal person could possibly lose that much blood and live but she prayed to the gods anyhow, "Forgive my stupidity and wanton behavior. I will never take him for granted again if you would only spare him. Please… Please… I pray of you. I beg of you."

Her heart leapt as a blood soaked Lancelot began to move in her arms. She looked down into his piercing dark eyes as she said, "I'll never leave your side again."

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, "I'm alright Gwen. Head wounds bleed a lot. But I'm alright."

"I made a mistake," She cried against his chest wanting, needing to confess what she'd almost done with his best friend Arthur.

"We all make mistakes," He assured his worried lover. He rose on unsteady feet just to prove to her he was fine.

She smiled through her tears as he helped her to her feet. "I love you," She cried.

"And I you," He vowed.

She placed his right arm over her shoulders and helped him out of the ransacked throne room. "Lance will you do something for me; something for us?"

"Of course, I'll do anything," He promised her, stopping briefly in the destroyed corridor to wipe her tears.

Guinevere mustered all the strength within her heart, "I need you to request a transfer from Arthur. Have him assign you to govern his northern territory. And I'll leave with you."

"Alright but why"

"Because staying here poses a threat to our relationship"

"Because of Morgana," He concluded.

_No, because of Arthur._ "Yes because of Morgana." Gwen replied throwing her arms around his neck, never more grateful to gaze up into his face. "You were right. We should have married on the boat. But now we'll just have to settle for the first chapel we come across on the road."

Lancelot smiled brightly despite the searing pain at the back of his head, placing his hands at the small of her back pulling her into him for a kiss.

xXx

_The Moment of Truth_

They'd found Freya naked and unconscious in the snow. Alator, the high priest had performed every medical technique he could to save her. And now it was up to Arthur; for she would surely die without the use of a dragon's magic. Would Arthur be the kind of king to unite the people or would he be like Uther and deny a dying girl medical treatment for sake of his own prejudices.

A dying Kilgharrah lay barely conscious on the lounge in Merlin and Freya's bedroom. Though there were no visible signs of what was causing him to fade away. All Merlin knew was that the peculiar blacksmith became deathly ill the moment Freya was struck, and the worse she got the worse he got; as if his very existence depended on her survival. Kilgharrah's short black hair was soaked and matted to his head. His skin was pale and ice cold. Even his shimmering emerald eyes were beginning to lose their luster, yet he bore no physical wounds, peculiar indeed.

With Arthur's help Merlin pushed the lounge over to the bed so that Kilgharrah could hold Freya's hand. Now was not the time for jealousy. Merlin could see that Kilgharrah indeed had a connection with his wife, but it wasn't one the young warlock had to worry about.

Alator told Arthur in his accented voice, "There's nothing more I can do. Without dragon's mist she'll be dead my morning."

"Arthur please!" Called a frantic Merlin, "What if this were your wife?! I can't lose her Arthur!"

The whole room couldn't breathe as they awaited the fate of Freya. On one hand, had it not been for the use of magic this would have never happened to begin with. Magic had been used to kill Arthur's father and attack Arthur's people. But on the other hand could Arthur truly allow a friend's wife to die? Merlin was his friend even if they'd rather die than admit this to one another. Freya's life was not the only thing at stake all of Albion lay swinging in the balance. It was the _Moment of Truth_.

Arthur stood petrified, torn, at a complete and utter loss.

"What kind of king are you going to be!" Merlin wailed in anguish shaking the young nobleman by the chainmail. "ARTHUR!"


	9. The Seven Elements of Albion

The Seven Elements of Albion

No one could move. No one could speak. This was the moment Arthur decided what kind of king he was going to be. Would he be the one to unite the five kingdoms or tear them down with his own hands?

Arthur unsheathed his sword. He stormed toward the door, "We haven't time to waste. I've got to capture a dragon."

Tears of relief ran down Merlin's face without him giving a damn about the merciless teasing Arthur would give him later.

"King Arthur," Kilgharrah called out in his exhaustion.

Arthur stopped. Kilgharrah informed him in a raspy voice, "The dragon is already here."

xXx

_A Whole New Appreciation_

Hours earlier Merlin and Arthur had moved Kilgharrah into the guestroom to rest and get better. It was approaching midnight and Merlin couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned on the lounge next to his and Freya's bed before getting up to pace the floor. He restlessly gazed out the window and the view was not as beautiful without sharing it with Freya. For the briefest of moments he pondered the possibility of gazing from this window alone for the rest of his life. It was enough to make him burst into choked sobs. _Will Kilgharrah's magic prove enough? Will Freya ever wake up?_

Merlin returned to Freya's bedside and lowered to the lounge beside her. He gazed down at her still form on the mattress gingerly stroking her cheek with his fingers. He leaned over her to place a tender kiss upon her bandage. Arthur had pierced her chest just below the left collar bone. It was a miracle that she was still breathing at all.

"You can't leave me Freya," Merlin whispered in a command more so than a plea. He paused wiping his own tears, "I love you."

He lowered his head to her soft bare shoulder and at last found himself able to sleep.

An hour later Freya slowly moved her hand into the silken black locks of her husband, "Merlin?" she questions in a confused and raspy voice. She usually slept in a gown but she was naked tonight. And then she remembered Arthur's blade coming at her. She breathed rapidly. Quivered all over. "Merlin!"

Merlin snapped his head from its resting place on her shoulder immediately. "Freya, oh Gods my Freya."

"I'm alright," She swore in a shaky voice.

They embraced one another just basking in the feel of each other's arms and her breathing gradually returned to normal.

But Merlin was still heaving and panicking, "My whole world would've ended. Swear you'll never leave me."

"I'll never leave you," She sat up carefully wrapping the sheet over her naked breasts, tucking the cover beneath each arm.

She wiped his tears with the pads of her thumbs but this didn't calm him. After such an ordeal she wasn't sure if anything could and she needed him level headed for what she had to tell him. She had very important news. Freya slinked off the bed allowing her sheet to fall.

She slowly straddled Merlin's lap as he sat up on the lounge placing his hand over her heart, "I'm here Merlin." She swore with a smile but even the drumming of her heart beneath his palm couldn't convince him so. He'd endured a hell no husband should ever have to face.

Freya took his hands, guiding the sensitive skin of his palms over her soft breasts, her toned stomach, her smooth porcelain thighs. Her near death had put him in a state of panic and shock and he needed to feel that she was there, that she'd always be there. She placed her wet lips upon his softly and he groaned returning the kiss. Her mouth opened ever slightly permitting the entry of his delicious tongue, their soft moans muffled by their kissing as he held her soft naked body close to him. She could feel his arousal through the soft material of his sleeping pants as he took her mouth with a hunger she'd never experienced before, eagerly kneading her back with his fingertips.

She broke their kiss with a gasp of pleasure as his hand caressed between her legs and one of his fingers slipped into her and then another joined it as he buried his face in her neck. He didn't want his love to hurt her but the sensation of her hot slipperiness at his fingertips made goose bumps rise on his skin. His stone hard desire begged for relief as he kissed and sucked the sensitive skin at the bend of her shoulder and neck. She gripped his locks spurring him on with her wanton moans; his fingers still working below sliding in and out of her wetness, stopping just briefly to rub his fingertips over the delicate button beneath her curls slightly swollen with her own arousal and at the point she called out "Myrddin" and her soft wet walls began to squeeze and relax around his fingers he knew she was ready to receive him.

A gasping Freya climbed off of his lap and he lifted just briefly allowing her to pull his pants down to his ankles. Then he returned to his seated position, took her by the hips slowly lowering her upon his desire, a soft moan escaping the two of them upon his long awaited entry. He cupped her supple breasts as she moved her hips in a circular motion. His head lowered to take a tender mound into his mouth, a squeal of pleasure escaping her as he swirled his tongue around the taunt nipple, thrusting eagerly beneath her as she held fast to his sweaty shoulders riding passionately upon his lap.

"I love you," she swore as she moved as one with him. "I'll never leave you."

He smiled against her breast at the pleasure of her body and her words, giving her nipple a little bite that sent shivers down her spine. His hands sliding around to grip her bottom as he pushed further up into her, yearning to feel all of her and Freya shed a tear and a squeak at the pressure he was causing in her belly, "Myrddin."

"I… I'm sorry. Am I hurting you," He whispered wiping her tear, his voice wrought with need as he fought his every instinct to still himself.

"A little but I like it," She confessed breathlessly.

A small smile braced his lips and he joined her in a steamy kiss, lifting the two of them from the lounge and disconnecting for just long enough to lay her gently upon the bed. He kicked off his forgotten pants and she shivered as he climbed up her body slowly, eying her as if she was his prey.

She moaned loudly as he guided her toned legs around his back and drove into her deep with a lustful growl. She lifted her head from the pillows gripping his locks to pull him down into a passionate kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth which only quickened the pace of his long deep strokes, she needed to feel him all of him. Her nails raking across his eagerly working back as he pumped them into a utopia of mind numbing bliss. Her body became warm all over as she released his back and gripped the sheets trembling in climax with a gentle cry of her husband's name and a profession of her love for him. The ripples of her tender release causing his mouth to gape in pleasure as he delivered his final powerful thrusts, his slender body convulsing with his release as he whispered, "I love you" against her neck.

He placed a sweet peck upon her quivering lips as they lay together still joined, their moistened foreheads pressed together, the two of them heaving to catch their breath after such passionate coupling. Wrapped in this sweaty satisfied embrace he found himself at last able to calm down from the horror of nearly losing his wife.

"Never scare me like that again," he said laughing softly as he withdrew his throbbing satisfied manhood, still shinning from a mixture of the two of them.

She took in a sharp breath at the soreness he'd unintentionally caused. They'd made love before but never like this. He was an animal tonight but a twice satisfied Freya had no complaints. They lay on their sides facing one another their bodies shining in the moonlight with a subtle sheen of perspiration. He caressed her curves dreamily with a whole new appreciation as she gingerly ran her fingers over the sweaty skin of his chest and stomach.

Freya took a deep breath, she'd finally calmed him and now it was time to tell him the truth, "You know how you said you never wanted children because you were concerned with them bearing the burden of magic."

"Yes that's why you're taking herbs to prevent it," Merlin grinned. "Thank you. Those herbs are a godsend."

Freya swallowed hard, "I missed a day."

"What do you mean?"

"I got busy and forgot to take my herbs one day and… and… I'm pregnant. I'm so sorry."

All the color drained from Merlin's slender face as her symptoms raced around his mind. Ice water flowed through the veins of his petrified body at the prospect of having a child with magic, a child who would be hunted and persecuted merely for being different, a child who would have to hide who they are their entire life. He wrapped his shaking arms around her tight but couldn't find words, there were no words for what he was feeling.

"Please say something," Freya broke down and cried in his arms, "I've never been so scared in my life."

"It's alright," He kissed her forehead. "And you have no reason to be sorry. We didn't plan it but things will work out." He wiped her tears not fully believing his own words, "There's no reason to cry. We're having a baby Freya."

"We're having a baby." She smiled through her tears.

She hugged him tight putting kisses all over his face while he grinned emphatically, both terrified to be parents but grateful to have each other.

xXx

_The Seven Elements of Albion_

A while later Merlin cleaned up and ventured down the hall as Freya slept like an angel, worn out from the love he'd rained upon her. He was surprised to see Kilgharrah already preparing to leave.

"We need to talk," Merlin said sternly.

"I have already told you a hundred times I'm not in love with your wife nor do I lust for her," replied the green eyed blacksmith.

Merlin smirked suspiciously as he said, "I know why you are always staring at Freya, finding any little excuse to talk to her."

Kilgharrah's eyes grew large he nervously rustled his black hair, "I… I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do," Merlin said accusingly. "You see I'm very observant. When we found Freya naked in the snow I saw everyone's reactions. Arthur did the typical five second gawk before turning his head out of respect for me, as did his guards. This is a normal reaction to seeing an attractive woman without clothes. However, your face only bore repulsion and worry. My jealousy had blinded me to the fact that you look just like her. And that's when it dawned on me. Freya was a foundling there's a good chance she had brothers and sisters and magic often runs in families. You're not a dragon who can transform into a man. You're a man who can turn into a dragon. Just tell her who you are."

"I never meant to impose on her life," Kilgharrah started for the door.

Merlin blocked his path, "If you don't tell Freya that you're her brother I will."

"Merlin please," The blacksmith pleaded.

"Are you afraid she won't believe you, that she won't accept you? If you give her a chance she will love you," Merlin assured with a comforting hand on Kilgharrah's muscular shoulder. "And don't even think about going back to that hot dirty forge. Family stays with us."

Kilgharrah nodded humbly tears welling up in his bright green eyes, "My sincerest thanks young warlock."

They both looked up at a knock on the door. At this time of night Merlin knew it couldn't be good. Merlin shoved open the door to find Alator accompanied by a rather large man who despite the cold weather was shirtless.

Alator informed them, "I'm sorry Emrys but I had nowhere else to turn."

"Come in," Merlin insisted at once, wondering why this priest always called him Emrys.

The four of them sat down in the living room, lit by the orange glow of the fireplace. Alator's body guard said nothing as always; the rather large monk had taken a vow of silence years ago.

"What's wrong," Merlin said.

Alator confessed, "Its Gwen. She and Lancelot have requested a transfer. She's leaving."

"If Arthur's too dumb to stop the love of his life from leaving Camelot I fail to see how that's our problem," Merlin replied a little confused.

Kilgharrah's heart ceased to beat at the horrible revelation. He drew no breath. He'd seen a future with no Gwen and it was not a happy one_. _"A future of turmoil, death, and despair awaits us all if Arthur marries Lamia. Gwen and Arthur were destined for each other. Albion will never exist without its queen."

"What's Albion?" Questioned Merlin as the wood popped and crackled in the fireplace.

Alator explained, "It's a time of peace and tranquility among the magical and non-magical alike. This era of prosperity can never come to pass without the seven elements and Gwen is one of them."

A stunned Merlin asked, "What are the other six?"

Kilgharrah spoke up, "The Seven Elements of Albion include:"

The once and future king known as Arthur

His wise and just Queen Guinevere

The world's most powerful sorcerer known by the Druids as Emrys

Freya the immortal Lady of the Lake

Me the dragon Kilgharrah

The knights of the round table

We have yet to discover the seventh element but we are searching night and day. This horrible girl Arthur insists upon marrying is slowly but surely eliminating the seven elements. Princess Lamia has stolen the king from his true queen. And one by one Lamia is causing Arthur's knights to resign. Arthur needs you Emrys."

Merlin shook his head no, "Stop calling me Emrys! I am not the great sorcerer you speak of. And being a good swimmer does not make Freya a goddess. She looked pretty damn mortal to me when she was bleeding out on the snow! Wouldn't I know if my wife was immortal?! Hell wouldn't she know?!"

"Not necessarily. And yes you are Emrys!" Alator swore sternly and Merlin backed down knowing this priest of the old religion was not one to be trifled with. The Catha assured Merlin. "I understand the burden you bear. I have lived with it all my life. I have been shunned persecuted and sometimes even hunted in every corner of the five kingdoms. You're not alone. I do not have your great powers but I share your hopes. For I and others like me have dreamt of the world you seek to build and we would gladly give our lives to help you do it."

Merlin nodded humbly and thanked the mighty Catha for his misplaced faith. _I am not this all powerful Emrys. I'm just Merlin but I'll help you until you find the incredible warlock of legend. Because I'm soon to be a father and I seek a time of peace prosperity and acceptance for my magic bearing child, a time of Albion. _"I'm in. Do I start by getting Arthur and Gwen to realize they're in love?"

Alator shook his head, "No you start by reuniting the Knights of the Round Table. The noble Sir Gwaine resigned and left court after what Lamia did to his wife. And there's a fellow rotting in prison by the name of Tristan. He was detained on a mere smuggling offense. The punishment should have been a simple fine and a slap on the wrist but Lamia convinced Arthur to imprison him. With a bit of training and patients Tristan would make a damn fine knight. There are also two sailors called Leon and Percival. Arthur felt they conducted themselves with chivalry and honor the night of the hurricane. Captain Leon refused to leave his doomed vessel until all of his passengers were off safely and Percival snatched Arthur and Gwen from a watery death. He pulled them into the life boat. For these reasons Arthur was going to ask them to train as knights, but Lamia talked him out of it."

"Alright, I'll talk to the knights but who's going to get Gwen and Arthur to talk to each other," Merlin asked.

"For that we're going to need divine assistance," Kilgharrah said.

Merlin chuckled.

Kilgharrah grimaced shaking his head._ It wasn't a joke. We are literally going to need divine assistance. Thank the gods Freya has connections._

"And as for me," Alator added. "I'll work on getting the witches tears. Morgana will be a tough one to crack but I have my ways."

Kilgharrah fumed, dragon's fire brewing up from deep within, "Kill the witch! I've seen the future she causes!"

"We need the witch's tears in order to stop the plague sweeping across these lands," Alator said calmly not surprised at all by Kilgharrah's rage.

Kilgharrah hated Morgana. She gave beings of magic a bad reputation. The blacksmith brooded, "You know its impossible to attain a witch's tears. Torturing them only makes them so furious that their core temperature rises to a degree that the tears boil and evaporate from their cheeks before they can be bottled."

"That's true," Alator admitted. "However through torture I may find an avenue to attain true tears from profound emotion. Those do not evaporate."

"You'd sooner squeeze profound emotion from a brick," Kilgharrah scoffed. A cold chill swept over Merlin, his blood turned to ice as Kilgharrah warned him in a desolate tone, "Should the witch ever escape imprisonment watch out for her. She is the darkness to your light, your destiny and your doom."

xXx

_The Witch Finder_

By week's end every sparkling crystal of snow had melted from the streets and roof tops of Camelot. The ice cycles had fallen from the eavesdrops and it was over a hundred degrees without a cloud in sight. Whatever was causing these peculiar weather fluctuations was creating utter chaos. The frost had killed most of the crops and what few had survived were drying up in the heat wave. The animals weren't mating due to the seasons being so thrown out of balance. Arthur had to resort to rationing grain from the palace store rooms.

Arthur had received word that things were even worse in the other kingdoms of Britain. Of one thing he was certain, if he didn't find the source of this horrible plague soon all would perish. He enlisted the help of a man once trusted by the late King Uther named Aredian. Most knew him as the _Witch Finder._

The boy king gazed out the window of the council room forlornly watching Captain Leon and Percival ration seafood to the needy people of Camelot. Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow. It was a miserable scorching hot day.

A sweaty Merlin cleared his throat. "The sailors you shunned could have taken to the seas and abandoned us the moment they had a new ship, but they were noble enough to lower their nets into the ocean and capture fish and lobsters for your destitute subjects.

Arthur sighed, "They would have made fine knights. I regret sending them away from the training grounds."

"They still can make fine knights," Merlin said.

"Why would they want to after I shunned them," Arthur replied. "I don't even know why I snubbed them the way I did."

"Princess Lamia that's why."

"Merlin don't start," Arthur said sternly. "A kingdom with no allies is vulnerable to be attacked even conquered. My people come first."

"So you admit you're only marrying Lamia out of obligation," Merlin gave his signature grin.

"No I love and respect her wisdom," Arthur said in defense of his betrothed.

"If you truly value Lamia's wisdom then why is it you've called Gwen to council and not your betrothed," Merlin smirked.

"Um… Uh… um…" A stammering Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as the door creaked open. _Whew saved._ "Merlin, retrieve Guinevere. She's running late and our guest is here."

"Yes milord," Merlin said with an amused smile

Despite the intense weather the witch finder stomped in wearing a long black trench coat. White hair stuck out from under a wide brimmed hat pulled down to his eyes. Without hesitation the man said, "Sire, you must execute Morgana Pendragon."

"Are you certain she's responsible for this plague of weather," Arthur replied not yearning to execute any woman, let alone his half sister; even if she'd always been ashamed of him and treated him with contempt.

The witch finder pulled off his hat and sat it upon the table running a weary hand through his sweaty gray hair. "My methods are infallible, my findings incontestable." The mercenary slammed a heavy tome on the long mahogany table creating a cloud of dust as he flipped through the ancient pages.

He pointed to a segment which Arthur read feverishly. The legends told of a corrupt goddess named Eris, known by the Romans as Strife. She thrived on causing chaos and discord. At first Arthur couldn't see what any of this had to do with Morgana until he read further: _Every millennium or so the goddess of discord will grow bored of Mount Olympus. She will seek out the womb of a mortal woman to bear her. Though she does not remember who she is while living on earth her true evil nature never ceases come out. She is a wicked demoness incapable of love, decency, or committing an unselfish act. She will bring misery and chaos to all she touches during her mortal reign. _

Arthur sank into his chair. "I am unable to think of anyone who causes more misery and chaos than my sister. But can I actually execute her?"

"Milord many innocent people are going to die if you don't," Called Aredian. "What's to happen when her plague of discord begins to affect the tides and even the sea creatures no longer mate? If you haven't the heart to put Morgana to death hand her over to the Council of Kings. They'll see to it she receives a fair trial."

"Arthur no," Gwen spoke up from the doorway with Merlin at her side. "The Council of Kings will not be able to see passed its own prejudices in order to give her a fair trial. They'll see her burned or beheaded merely for possessing magic. Being different automatically makes her guilty in their eyes."

The witch finder gasped as Gwen made her way into the council room. He couldn't believe Arthur would convene with a woman and allow her to speak to him so plainly.

Gwen curtsied ceremoniously, "I'm sorry I'm late Milord. I had to freshen up. It has to be at least a hundred degrees." Gwen waived a lacy white hand fan in front of her face and bosom feverishly, but it did little to combat the intense heat.

"No harm done," Arthur assured her smiling at her unwavering strength and fortitude to take the unpopular stance. _Lancelot is a lucky man._ "Guinevere you know Aredian may be right. Morgana could very well be the Goddess of Discord. Can you think of anything good or unselfish she has ever done?"

"Honestly no," Gwen admitted. "But being mean spirited does not necessarily make Morgana the goddess of discord. Alator said not to kill her. She could prove useful. At least allow him to finish interrogating her. And think of all the people you could help with the ransom her kingdom is going to pay."

The witch finder snapped, "And who is Alator to speak on such matters?!"

"The one who captured Morgana and saved all of Camelot," Merlin rebutted angrily.

Arthur rose and made a compromise, "The palace stock rooms will run empty in just two week's time. Alator has a fortnight to attain useful information to stop Morgana's plague from sweeping across the world. I'll turn her over to the Council of Kings as a last resort. Merlin please show Lord Aredian to his room."

Merlin nodded and walked out with the disgruntled witch finder. He could tell the mercenary was not at all pleased with Arthur's decision to wait.

Aredian scowled. _I must find a faster way to rid this realm of Morgana Pendragon. That witch and those like her will be the death of us all._

Once alone in the council room Gwen smiled and mouthed the words thank you placing her hand upon Arthur's strong arm in appreciation. His eyes closed for just a moment reveling in the simple caress. _What is it about this woman that makes me yearn to betray every code of honor I believe in? _He instinctively closed his hand over hers smiling down at her, licking his lips almost involuntarily at the drop of perspiration trickling down her neck, over her cleavage and into her purple bodice. _God help me. I would give my entire kingdom just to be that drop of sweat._

She drew quickened breaths under the heaviness of his gaze and the sensation of his warm hand upon hers; the manner in which his red tunic clung to his sweat laden abs and chest was enough to make her fan herself until her wrist was sore. _What is it about the very touch of this man that renders me stupid? That princess has her claws sunk so deep into Arthur he'd never think of leaving her. He will never be mine and I cannot stick around to become his whore. _

"I better finish packing," Gwen whispered, her dark eyes shining with tears. "I leave first thing in the morning."

"Of course," Arthur's heart sank. "I suppose this means I'll never get that kiss."

Gwen shook her head no regretfully, "If I start kissing you I'm afraid I'll never stop."

Arthur grimaced, his own eyes beginning to well up. _I don't want her to leave but if they don't marry soon I'll be in danger of betraying a friend. _

Gwen pulled their joined hands to her mouth and kissed his palm ever sweetly. Arthur closed his eyes swooning in the feel of her soft wet lips upon his skin.

"Goodbye Arthur," She flung herself at the door, pulled it open and fled.

Her tears flowed freely now, her hair falling loosely from its dazzling clips with the speed of her gait. She needed air. Heedless of the curious eyes of idling courtiers, Gwen picked up her heavy skirts and hurried towards her massive chamber. She ran onto her balcony overlooking the sea. The air dry and sharp on her warm tears. Overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotion that washed over her she sunk to her knees.

"Milady!" Freya exclaimed and ran to her aid. Freya pulled the sobbing Guinevere to her feet. The girls embraced one another their flowing hair mingling together, Gwen's warm tears soaking into the fabric of Freya's new ruby-colored gown.

"My gods," Gwen coughed in her anguish. "Why does doing the right thing have to hurt so badly?"

"There are times when the wrong thing can seem like the right thing," Freya said sympathetically. "You are running away Milady."

At that Gwen broke their embrace. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and returned to her packing, carelessly shoving her belongings into her trunk as fast as her arms could move. _Everything will be better once Lancelot and I marry in the morning. I just have to stay the hell away from Arthur for twelve more hours. Just twelve more hours… _

xXx

_A Single Glistening Tear_

Arthur sat at the long table in the council room thoughtfully gazing at the single glistening tear that fell from Guinevere's lovely cheek and splashed upon his skin as she kissed his hand. With that one tear of true love he found himself feeling differently about his betrothed. He was no longer drawn to her. He wasn't even sure why he liked her to begin with. With one tear Gwen had broken the enchantment he was under without either of them even knowing it.

"MERLIN!" Arthur called with his heart still aching from the site of Gwen fleeing out the door.

Merlin rushed in full ready to tease Arthur until he noticed the tears in the young king's eyes, "Is everything alright Arthur."

"What do you believe Camelot needs more a wise, just, and selfless queen or allies for its defense," Arthur questioned.

"A wise and just queen will gain her kingdom allies for its defense," Merlin answered honestly. "Put the right woman on your throne and the rest will fall into place."

Arthur nodded, "I'll never get Guinevere to leave Lancelot. He has an iron grip on her. But that doesn't mean I'm going to settle for anything less than a wise and just queen for my people. I'll never have Gwen but someday I hope to marry someone like her."

"What are you saying Arthur?"

"Cancel my afternoon council meeting," Arthur instructed. "I must speak with Princess Lamia and she's not going to like what I have to say."

**Thank you for reading chapter 9 :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	10. Divine Intervention

Devine Intervention

It was just before midnight when Freya packed the last of Gwen's belongings in preparation for tomorrow's elopement. Freya had done everything she could to change Gwen's mind while Merlin talked to the stubborn Arthur, all to no avail. Once dismissed Freya told Gwen she was heading home but how could she with the fate of Albion at stake. Freya fled through the palace corridors. Burst from an exit only used by servants. She met the cool night air. Ran toward the sea. Her vision stifled by her tresses as the strong wind whipped them over her face. She vigorously flung her stubborn locks aside as she reached the edge of a small cliff. She began unlacing herself pulling her heavy dress down from her shoulders and abandoning it in a crumpled pile at her feet.

She glared down at the vast waters, her shift flowing about her body as she stood on the ledge, her dark hair dancing wildly in the breeze. The waters were calling her home, beguiling her soul. She'd been different her whole life. She could communicate with sea creatures telepathically and tonight she needed advice. Without further hesitation she dove into the sea. She fell for what seemed forever before receiving its cold comforting embrace. The waters felt like heaven on her skin; tantalizing, rejuvenating as she swam into the deep, her eyes casting a bright glow in front of her to light her path.

Freya swam peacefully throughout Leon's sunken and abandoned vessel knowing just who to call on in her time of need. She drifted on her back kicking her feet ever slowly around the completely submerged captain's quarters. She shut her eyes gingerly rubbing her fingers at her temples as she mentally called to her good friend Daniel.

Once she was confident he'd heard her she floated up to the water filled china cabinet to admire the fine plates and cups. _I'll salvage as much as I can for Leon. If he asks how I retrieved his precious treasures I'll say they washed up on shore. _

There was something so enchanting about a sunken ship. The once great vessels resting at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea were Freya's favorite places to play as a child. She would stand boldly at the helm pretending to steer the mighty vessels on grand adventures as she played with the merchildren of Atlantis. She only wished that Merlin could dive to such depths with her but he couldn't. Nor could he be without breath for as long.

"Freya"

She heard a voice echo in her mind. She drifted around to find a rather striking young merman named Daniel. His hair was a fiery red and his large fishlike tail possessed florescent coin size scales. She embraced the beautiful man at once and the two of them swam hand in hand breaking through the surface of the cool waters. He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her up onto a large flat rock the size of a room. He brought half of his statuesque body out of the water resting his elbows on the rock bed. Though the middle of the night Daniel was certain to hide his tail in order to avoid a lecture from Freya; she was always concerned about him being captured, killed and put on display in some museum.

"What troubles you my Freya," Asked Daniel flinging his soggy red locks from his eyes. "Did you get the necklace I sent you?"

"Yes thank you. That potion saved many young lives." Freya took a deep breath as she wrung out her long dark tresses, "You once told me that you were no great profit or seer but from where you're standing you can see a little further down the road, like a guard in a watchtower." He nodded and she went on to say. "Gwen is getting married in the morning. How do I get her to talk to Arthur? The king loves her I know it."

Daniel's eyes grew large knowing full well what was at stake, "It is of the utmost importance that you do exactly as I say. Now Guinevere has a very important book…"

Freya listened intently to everything he said before placing an appreciative kiss upon his cheek and swimming for shore. Once Freya was far out of sight Daniel dipped back into the waters with his hands stretched out before him as he swished his magnificent tail up and down swimming for the deep. Vibrations rose from his fists as he used his supreme gifts to form a glowing ring on the hull of the ship which grew exponentially revealing the glamorous world of the gods. He swam through the majestic portal, his shimmering tail transforming to a pair of clothed legs as he stepped onto Mount Olympus completely dry. His beautiful but powerful Triton materialized in his hand. The words inscribed on the handle: _Poseidon Lord of the Seven Seas_.

"You're interfering brother," Zeus said in a reprimanding tone as he stepped down from his mighty thrown, clad in a sparkling white toga, a crown of shimmering laurel leaves sitting atop his shoulder length tresses.

"Freya doesn't know I'm her father. Nor is she aware that I'm the God of the sea," Poseidon said in his own defense. "There's no rule against speaking to her as a friend. And why shouldn't I help her when you gave her the hardest quest of all. She's your niece Zeus!"

The lightening god's gorgeous face brightened with a smile, "Brother you know very well why I can no longer grant divinity due to birth alone. Every new god and goddess has to complete a quest and prove they belong among immortals. I gave my niece the hardest quest of all because I have the utmost faith in her. You needn't worry about your child."

"Well you should worry about yours. That brat of yours that Eris caused a hurricane. The waters are my territory Zeus," Poseidon growled. "If she tramples onto my domain again I will be well within my rights to drown her like a rat."

Zeus being the type to never take things too seriously laughed off the threat, "Poseidon do you even know which mortal form Eris is hiding in." Poseidon shook his head no and Zeus assured him. "We'll figure out who she is and bring her home before she can wreak anymore havoc on the mortal realm; no need for violence. Now are you certain Freya doesn't know who you are because if she finds out then she'll be stuck on earth for a second mortal lifetime with a second quest before she can enter the realm of the gods."

"I know I know," Poseidon assured him. "Before you can grant her divinity you need to be sure that she's listening to her heart and not just her father. But I can assure you that Freya believes I'm a merman named Daniel from the lost city of Atlantis. Hell she used to have a crush on me. You should have seen the look of utter disgust and confusion on her face after she kissed me."

Zeus and Poseidon burst out laughing caring little about the curious stares of the other gods and goddesses.

"I bet it was funny," Zeus chuckled with a slap on his brother's back.

"It was goddamned hilarious," Poseidon laughed heartily.

"If all goes well I need you to do a small stent on earth for me," Zeus said. "It will be a very hard mission."

"What will I be called?" Poseidon grinned being one to never back down from a challenge.

"You'll be known as the Fisher King." Zeus informed him as they leisurely strolled to the council room of the gods.

"Do I at least get to keep my Triton," Poseidon asked in a jovial manner.

"Did you seriously ask me that," Zeus shook his head in amusement. "Alright you can keep your damn triton."

xXx

_The Journal of Thomas Leodegrance_

"Oh no…" Gwen gasped with her hands on her cheeks as she searched for her father's journal but she already knew where it was. _Freya must have accidently placed it into the box of books I asked her to return to Arthur. Now she's gone for the night. I can't send her back for it. Breathe. _Gwen drew in two long slow breaths._ Every man in the castle is gone to Lancelot's stag party. I'll just sneak in and get it while Arthur's out with the boys, no harm done. Wait… I think Arthur locks his room and Merlin is the only one with an extra key. I'll have to wait until morning and ask for it just before we depart. But if I do that I stand the chance of forgetting and I couldn't live with myself if I did. That journal is the only link to my dearly departed parents: when they met, how they fell in love, how they felt when they found out mum was pregnant with me. They both died when I was so young that I got to know them through my father's writings. I must at least see if Arthur may have gotten caught up with all the excitement and forgot to lock his chamber door._

She fastened the gold pin of her cloak over her night dress. Her maid was gone for the night and Gwen couldn't don all the heavy layers of her formal gown by herself, besides this would only take a second. She'd be in and out. She opened her door and peered in both directions of the dark stone corridor, only tapestries and artwork. The coast was clear so she stealthily scampered off to Arthur's room.

She paused at the glimmer of light coming out from under his door. _Maybe I should go back… _She pressed her ear to the door but heard nothing._ Maybe Merlin just forgot a candle. _She smiled as the doorknob turned and the heavy barricade opened with a squeak. She could already see the box of books on the table of his dimly lit room. As the door creaked closed behind her she heard one word that stopped her in her tracks.

"Guinevere?"

She looked up to find him bathing his beautiful form in a large tub surrounded by candles, "Arthur… What are you doing here?"

"It's my bed chamber," He smirked.

Gwen spewed apologies and turned to flee but the door refused to open.

Arthur called from behind her as she struggled with the heavy wooden barrier, "My door was broken in the siege. It jams from time to time. Yet another thing my manservant failed to fix."

Gwen's bottom jaw fell to the floor as a stark naked Arthur rose from his bath, water running over his muscles like the rocks of a waterfall. He was certainly not the scrawny whelp she used to sneak food to in the Roman Coliseum. His daily weapons training had made him ripped. Shocked expectancy covered her face as she noticed the smolder in his eyes as he gazed upon her dressed in so little clothing. She fought her every instinct to will her eyes to the floor as he made his way toward her. Gwen felt a warm moist hand upon her cheek and knew he had closed the gap between them.

"I… I… I came for my father's book," She stammered. "I figured you'd be at the stag party."

"Didn't feel much like celebrating," Arthur confessed, removing her trembling hand from the doorknob. "You're leaving me Guinevere."

She heaved breathlessly once again drinking up the vision of this golden haired Adonis. She released a long slow breath as his moist arms began to close around her thinly veiled body. "Why would you bare yourself before me like this?"

"I wanted to make you feel just once how you have always made me feel," He whispered rubbing his hands down her back until his palms cupped her soft round bottom. "You don't love him Guinevere, not like you love me. You just feel guilty because he got hurt."

She drew a sharp breath at the feel of him touching her so intimately, "Who are you to tell me who I love?"

"I thought I was your king," He smiled as he caressed her body.

Her mouth gaped in pleasure of the sensation of his hands upon her breasts, her hips, her soft round ass, "You may be the king but you do not govern my heart."

"That's unfair, because you have always governed mine," He said vehemently. "You're not in love with him. You're just terrified to be queen. And I don't blame you. But you already protect and support the king at all costs. I rely upon you above all others for your wisdom, and council, and strength. Don't you see Guinevere? You've always been queen. Make it official and be my wife."

She lowered her head knowing full well that he spoke the truth. Her breath quickened as his arms began to close around her.

"I have always loved you," he whispered in her ear.

Her heart skipped a beat as he hoisted her up on his hips, her legs instinctively wrapping around his strong naked body as he carried her into his bedchamber, her arms encircling his neck holding tightly as he swept her away. And soon she felt his soft pillows beneath her head, his cool sheets upon her skin as he covered the two of them with a plush down comforter.

"Arthur," She breathed gazing up into the steely blue of his eyes as he lay between her quivering knees gazing down at her. Her beautiful Egyptian eyes began to fill with tears "I can't marry you. I promised Lancelot my life."

"And you promised me a kiss."

Her eyelids lowered and closed in ecstasy as his lips touched hers so tenderly. His hand tangling in her raven tresses as he pressed harder deepening the kiss and she felt the pressure that had been building up in her stomach begin to pulsate and set her body on fire. He pulled away gasping at the pleasure that surged through him, looking to her for some sort of confirmation and when she didn't move or protest, he kissed her again. A shockwave of pleasure ran through her, causing her to push up into the kiss. As something hot and wet touched her lower lip she tentatively opened to allow him in; his tongue felt warm, moist, and textured like the sand of a paradise beach it was as sweet and delicious as the island fruits which flourished there and as his impeccable tongue massaged, caressed, made love to her own she could not deny that his mouth felt like pure heaven joined with hers.

At long last, they separated and looked at each other, catching their breath as his hips pinned hers to the bed, his hardness a clear indication that he was enjoying their kiss as much as she was. The only problem was that now they both yearned for more and no one wanted to be the one to say it, no one wanted to be the person to initiate this betrayal of Lancelot. The hand that was stroking her hair moved down to remove her cloak and her heart twisted in a knot, a chill ran down her body, and she trembled at his mercy, "Arthur."

"We won't do anything you don't want," He whispered in her ear and she could feel her tense muscles loosen.

He popped the cloak loose and they gazed upon each other hesitantly unsure of what to do next; her for fear of what he may think of her and him for fear of pushing her too far. He lifted the ring attached to a necklace from her chest and eyed it momentarily, "This was your father's."

She nodded without words and he placed the trinket back on its resting place at her breastbone. He gingerly brushed the soft black curls from her face placing tender kisses upon her forehead and cheeks, subtly rubbing his steely erection between her legs, her thin gown and undergarments doing little to stifle the sensation of his hardness on her clit. Gwen held fast to his shoulders and pulled him down kissing him hastily eliciting a pleasurable groan from Arthur. He slipped the gown up her body tossing it somewhere unimportant, the crisp evening air upon her skin raising goose bumps on her flesh. She quivered in the openness, and he placed a gentle kiss upon her neck. His touch calmed and stilled her and she could feel him waiting for that. When she relaxed he pulled away for a moment to gaze upon her beautiful topless body a subtle smile creasing his impeccable lips as he began caressing the front of her very lightly with just the tips of his fingers, which were hot despite the cool night air. He lowered his head to place his mouth to her breast and she could not keep herself from moaning at the ecstasy he was giving her with his warm wet tongue, his supple lips, his fingertips.

"Arthur," She moaned in shock and pleasure. "You're not innocent?"

He raised his tongue from her taunt chocolate nipple and looked up at her, his handsome face heavy with guilt, "I'm so sorry Guinevere. I wish I could say I was."

A relieved smile braced her lips, "Good I didn't want to be the only bad one."

A soft laugh escaped the two of them. She'd made love before but as Arthur removed her pantaloons and they fell in a delicate roll on the floor she was suddenly afraid. She watched as he positioned himself between her bare legs kissing her knee, taking a mental picture of every soft curve and crevice. His eyes so full of love and sincerity met her own as he wrapped her in the muscular embrace of his arms, the tip of his arousal finding its way to her slippery threshold. She inhaled deeply and braced herself, locking eyes with her king biting her lip at the mounting anticipation.

_Can I do this? _Arthur questioned himself. _Can I fuck my friend's girl? _Tears blurred his stormy blue eyes. "Tell me you love me Guinevere and I won't feel so bad."

"I love you Arthur."

"I love you too."

He seemed too big for her but he eased in, slowly, lovingly, and when his hips were finally joined with hers, tears sprang to her eyes for the betrayal she'd committed. How could she allow him to enter a place meant for Lancelot, a place that's only been touched by Lancelot? As she felt Arthur's tear splash upon her cheek she knew that he felt as shameful as she for violating a friend's woman. But soon passion ceased the flow of Arthur's tears. His eyes fluttered like the wings of a humming bird and Gwen's heart leapt to know that she was causing him such pleasure. Her pain subsided and he gazed down at her brushing away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. He leaned down kissing her and she shifted to get comfortable with him inside of her body. She began breathing normally, and he took this as his sign to begin moving. But as he pulled back and thrust into her again, the pain returned full-force and she cried out.

"I'm sorry… I should have never…" A concerned Arthur froze.

She raised her hips from the bed to receive all of him and his mouth gaped in pleasure, nearly finishing him right there. Gwen adjusted, with aid from Arthur's comforting kisses to her forehead, and lips, and eyes. He pulled out slowly and entered her again, significantly more forceful this time, welding his hips to her. Her nails on his back adding fuel to the fire as he began to pump, back and forth, slowly at first, and then faster, while her hips rocked beneath him in rhythm with his own.

For so long, she had been sulking in her room, remembering the boy from the dungeons of Ealdor, praying that he was safe and happy. Now he was here, rejuvenating her skin wherever his fingers caressed, muffling her wanton moans with his passionate kissing, and drawing gasps with each bite to her neck, or shoulders, or breasts, or wherever his teeth happened to be at the moment. His strokes were long and hard as he groaned at the pleasure of her wetness, her tightness, her wanton cries of his name.

_This woman doesn't belong to me. _He chastised himself without breaking his stride. _But she feels so amazing. I can't help myself. I love her. She was made for me._

He whispered against her lips, his voice a mixture of guilt and lust as he pushed into her body. "I'm sorry this happened but I love you Guinevere."

"I love you too Arthur. Don't be sorry. We were made for each other," She breathed into his open mouth as he drove into her. His tongue prodded back into her mouth, their lean sweaty bodies sliding against one another with every forward and backward motion. He ceased, moved back, and pulled her up onto his lap.

She lowered her hips and he reentered her gasping a swear word as she moved up and down his hard length causing his toes to curl in mind numbing bliss as she road him. He gazed up at the vision of this caramel skinned goddess kneading her breasts with his hands as he bucked beneath her, his curls tickling the delicate bud between her lower lips with every upward thrust. Her legs began to tremble at each side of his waist and he raised his back from the bed to encircle her with his strong loving arms. A lustful groan escaped his lips when her teeth sunk into his neck as she fought to focus on anything else but cumming, but her mouth upon his neck only encouraged him to delve deeper, and push hard intensifying her pleasure as they made sweet and passionate love to one another.

She rocked her hips upon his hard pelvis, eagerly taking every long hard inch of him, his fingers digging into her sweat laden back, his hand sliding up to tangle in her long dark locks, pulling her head back to bury his face at the bend of her neck and shoulder. But Arthur could tell she was fighting her every instinct to release her passion. A shiver rolled up her spine as his lips brushed her ear, "You know I love the sound of you. Sing for me Guinevere."

She held onto his sweaty muscular shoulders for dear life as he pumped into her even harder, pouring nibbles down her neck to further intensify her climax when she came.

"I love you Arthur," She swore from the depths of her soul as total ecstasy washed over every inch of her quivering satisfied body, and she sank against his chest spent.

Her moans so sultry and beautiful to his ears that his torso convulsed and jerked in her arms, his mouth gaping in shock pleasure lust as he bathed her soft throbbing walls with his warm sweet nectar. The sensation of his seed so pleasing inside her womanhood, the subtle thumping of his satisfied desire against her g-spot were enough to make her moan and tremor in ecstasy a second time shedding a tear from her overflowing emotions.

Still connected they sat speechless in each other's arms, a warm tender minute ticked by before a sore and satisfied Gwen began to stir. She raised her hips slowly pulling him out of her, biting her lip in response to the delicious tenderness he'd caused.

Arthur nuzzled up behind her reaching over to grab her hand, bringing it up to his lips to cover in sweet kisses. They lay panting until they regained their breath at last, at which point Arthur could not keep his fingers apart from her flesh. He massaged her lazily as she lay in his embrace, her eyes closing at the feel of his arms around her. Nobody spoke, unable to believe what they'd just done. Though she should sneak out under the cover of darkness, before the first light broke on the horizon, she didn't seem to want to leave and Arthur didn't want her to leave either.

In the early morning, hours before dawn, Gwen woke to find Arthur forlornly poking the red hot coals in his fireplace. And as she gazed upon his silhouette in the flickering orange glow of the blaze she saw pain guilt and dishonor in his eyes. She heard him curse in anguish for pushing her to do such a thing, for betraying Lancelot, for being so stupid as to take a woman to his bed who was certain to leave him. He ran an agitated hand through his hair and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders lowered, like a man defeated, and when he looked up at her his eyes shone with heartbreak.

Gwen pulled her discarded nightgown from the dresser as she approached him from behind. With wary fingers, she touched his back and felt his lungs fill with the contact. Her hands rubbing down his toned arms as he sat very still, allowing her to explore the ridges and valleys of his muscles, running her fingers along the scars of his fair skin. She scooted closer to where he was sitting placing her feet on either side of him as she pressed her thinly veiled breasts and stomach against his back, closing her eyes to control her breathing. He touched the fabric of her gown, caressed the bent knee beneath the silky material, he reached behind him and took a hold of her hands, wrapping them around his washboard stomach and holding them there. Her heart began beating so fast she was sure he could feel it against his spine. Silence passed between them and she slid one hand up his stomach to his chest to feel his heart. It was beating as furiously as her own.

"I'm so sorry," he spoke, "I really am. I… I should have never… And now I don't know what I'll do when you leave me at first morning's light."

She shushed him with a finger to his lips and shook her head against the back of his neck. "You did nothing wrong. I wanted it," She assured him slipping the necklace bearing her father's ring off of her neck and tying it around Arthur's.

Arthur smiled feeling the trinket with his fingertips, knowing how precious it was to Guinevere. She purred in his ear, "Marry me Arthur."

He was speechless, breathless. With a renewed sense of direction, she placed a kiss at the base of his neck. He arched forward slightly in response, and she began trailing kisses down his neck, back, and up around his shoulders, feeling the way he moved each time with each new place. Her mouth poured pleasure over his upper body stopping at valleys and oasises along the way, until he could take it no longer. He spun around to face her and passionately joined his lips with hers, causing her to cry out as he simultaneously pulled her into his lap. Her legs snaked their way around his waist as he removed her gown caressing every part of her as he kissed her, causing her to moan into his mouth. She held on to his shoulders as he hoisted her further atop of him with a grunt, and she could feel his arousal through the thin fabric of his pants. Her hand slipped beneath his waist band to free him from his cloth prison, and a cry of ecstasy escaped her plump wet lips as he entered her again. She began rocking against him with her arms around his neck, her head lolling back as he placed his lips upon her breast. He began to move his hips to meet hers with each thrust, groaning lustfully as he delved into her body, until they finished together with a gentle cry of each other's names.

"Arthur," Gwen whispered breathlessly as she straddled his lap, his satisfied manhood still throbbing inside of her. "Can I assume this means yes?"

"Of course," A soft laugh escaped Arthur's lips as he braced her with a kiss.

Gwen wasn't sure how long they slept, tangled in an embrace, but when the first blood-red line highlighted the horizon, they woke and shyly helped each other dress in the yellow-orange light of dawn. As she stood at his window's ledge to watch the sun rise, he held her body leaning in for a kiss which she gladly granted him; for she was soon to be his queen.

"Now the hard part, telling Lancelot," Gwen sighed against his chest.

"You don't have to do it alone," he assured her dropping a kiss into her tousled hair.

Gwen looked up at the shatter of glass. Arthur spun and fell to the floor with a wail of agony as a bolt pierced him through the side. Pain tore through him as he bled out on the marble. His blurry sights set on his friend and comrade. Lancelot had a well crafted crossbow in one hand and a screaming fighting Guinevere in the other.

"ARTHUR!" She screamed reaching out for him.

"GUINEVERE!" Arthur bellowed as he picked himself up from the floor, staggering in her direction.

Lancelot placed the crossbow in a holster on his back. He led her toward the window he'd burst in through. He got a good grip on Gwen as he clutched a rope that extended from the rafters. A groggy Arthur grabbed her arm as Lancelot lept out the window with her. As Gwen's silver bracelet, a gift from Lancelot, slipped from her wrist she realized she'd never loved Lancelot at all. The true Lancelot never returned from the second siege of Ealdor.

Arthur began to cough up bright red blood as his guards kicked in the door to get to him. They dropped to their knees at the side of their dying king. No one including Arthur understood what the hell had happened. Arthur just lay there gasping for air and clutching Guinevere's silver bracelet in his blood soaked hand, a bracelet engraved with markings of the old religion.

Gwen and her captor hit the ground. He aimed his crossbow at her heart forcing her upon a steed with him. He galloped away with her as his prisoner. Tears poured over her cheeks and she found herself wishing she had listened to Morgana, but how could she when Lance had such a powerful hold over her. Gwen's heart ceased to beat. Her mind couldn't comprehend the truth: that for three years she'd been used and enchanted. For three years she shared her love, her bed, her life, with a shade…


	11. Saving Cinderella

**Author's Note: This chapter is for you Shaymars. Sorry it took so long to update **

Saving Cinderella

Much of the skin had been rubbed from Morgana's wrists. They hurt and burned and bled from the heavy iron shackles as she lay chained to a solid stone platform. A ring of fire encircled her. Sweltering hot flames danced around her tortured body.

"Do not resist the fire. Let it into your mind," Called the hypnotic voice of the Catha.

She groaned in agony sluggishly moving her head from side to side, "Never."

The flames rose to a roar as Alator the Catha stretched out his arms and spoke his incantations, "Feel them burn into the darkest recesses of your mind. Let them shine a torch on your deepest secrets."

It felt as if every neuron in her mind was catching fire at once, twisting delivering excruciating pain from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Every cell in her body burned with the fires of the underworld. Her witch's tears boiled to nothing, leaving salty white streaks upon her face.

Her voice broke as she found herself no longer able to endure the torture, "Arthur… Arthur is actually fourteen."

A puzzled Alator killed the flames at the sound of approaching footsteps in the dark tower. _How can Arthur's age be her deepest darkest secret? Does the king even know how old he really is? How could something so inconsequential be the source of Morgana's malevolence?_

"I brought food for the prisoner," called a striking blond sailor who had to duck to get through the doorway. His build has large almost imposing but he exuded a gentleness that was almost palpable. He flinched at the sight of the unconscious tortured woman shackled to the altar.

"I'm done for the day," Alator assured the young man he'd come to know by the name of Percival. "She doesn't eat for another half hour. Was your intention to end my interrogation early?"

Percival looked away, a silent confirmation.

Alator shook his head, "I know you must think I'm cruel but this is necessary, and evil comes in many forms."

"I know it's just… She's a woman Alator," Percival sat the plate of fish and lobster on the table, along with his skin of water. He walked over to the prisoner gingerly sweeping the wet locks from her lovely porcelain face. "She was a little girl once, someone's daughter. I know it's foolish of me but I can't help but wonder where it all went wrong."

"It's not foolish to have compassion," Alator assured him. "The world needs more people like you: brave and still compassionate. But I caution you, this woman will likely kill you the first opportunity she gets."

"Yes Sir," Percival nodded sliding one hand beneath her knees and the other behind her back.

He lifted her from her place of torment with ease as if she were made of butterflies. She felt so elfin in his embrace, so vulnerable that some part of him pitied her. The long chains attached to her shackles drug the floor making sparks as he carried her across the prison cell. Percival laid her on the bed in the corner wincing at the sight of her wrists. They were even more raw than yesterday but he came prepared this time.

Percival turned to Alator and asked, "Do you mind if I clean her arms and apply some salve."

"That's fine by me," The Catha said pulling on the hood of his gray and purple robe. It was a chilly day in the tower.

"Could you remove the shackles for just a little while," Percival pleaded on behalf of the witch and for the smallest moment Alator thought Morgana may have cast an enchantment on the sailor.

He approached Percival, looked in his eyes, scanned his person for strange marks or jewelry but Alator saw and felt no magic upon him. _This boy is just genuinely kind! _The Catha regretfully shook off Percival's request, "Those shackles bind her magic. She'll kill us all if I take them off."

"I understand Sir," Percival nodded solemnly reaching over to retrieve his skin of water.

Percival looked up as Merlin burst into the room. Merlin whispered something frantically that Percival couldn't quite make out. The only words the sailor could hear were, "This bracelet has magic. I can feel it."

Alator shot surreptitious glances at each of the guards in the tower hall. _Something's happened to King Arthur but I don't trust any of his men with the keys to the prisoner. The reason Morgana was able to infiltrate Camelot was because we have a traitor in our midst._ Uncertain of who the traitor was Alator tossed the ring of keys to a mutual person with no ties to either kingdom. A surprised Percival caught them in the air.

"Guard the prisoner with your life," Alator ordered and sprinted down the endless winding staircase with Merlin at his heels.

The spurned guards called after the Catha, "This fisherman is not a knight of Camelot!"

"Maybe he should be!" Merlin called in the sailor's defense as he and Alator made their way out of the tower.

_I hope nothing terrible has happened. How could it if King Arthur's true enemy lies before me in shackles?_ Percival wet a cloth and wiped the tear stains from Morgana's cheeks while she slept fitfully, worn out from het torture. But when he gingerly began cleaning the dainty wrists of this raven haired witch her green eyes popped open in response to the tenderness of her flesh. A shocked gasp escaped her as she woke to find a man looming over her, a man with shoulders as broad as a doorway and eyes the color of the sky. She backed herself to the wall reeling at his touch.

"I brought you food," he said offering the plate of fish and lobster.

"I'm not hungry," Morgana snapped, her bosom heaving for breath. "Besides why would you feed the 'Goddess of Discord' as their calling me if not to poison me?"

"Because even the Goddess of Discord has to eat," Percival smiled. _It's the same routine with her every day, the same distrust._ "I didn't poison you yesterday or the day before milady. Do you trust anyone?"

"I trust only two," She admitted. "One of them is me and the other isn't you."

He sat the plate in her lap and she ate staring cautiously at him rather than her food. He laughed at her paranoia taking the arm she wasn't using to feed her face. She snatched her hand back at once.

He chuckled again, "That's quite the graveyard of vacant shells and clean bones you're piling up to not have been hungry."

_Just great the Catha saved the worst torture for last; he's cursed me to an afternoon of mindless yammering. _She rolled her eyes, "Oh waitress may I trouble you for a drink of water?"

"Real funny," He sneered tossing her the skin.

She guzzled without coming up for breath for the better part of a minute. The fires had severely parched her throat. She wiped the drops from the corners of her mouth. "Why are you still here?"

"I've been asked to guard you," He replied.

"You can guard me from the corridor like everyone else," She said arching a suspicious brow.

"Ah… But then I'd miss our wonderful little chats. What were you like before you became… you?" He asked taking her wrists once more.

He began to clean her aching flesh and apply cool soothing ointment. She closed her eyes allowing him to treat her this time. "Why are you doing this?" She questioned without opening her eyes.

He ignored her question because he didn't have an answer. _I don't know why I care about people. I just do. _Percival continued to work around her shackles to treat the sore wrists beneath, "Did you like dolls as a girl?"

She snarled. He could almost hear her growl.

"I'll take that as a no. You were a sword play kind of damsel. King Uther must've had his hands full with you." He chuckled. "What about warm sunny days? Everyone loves a sunny day."

Another snarl from Morgana.

"You like snow," He concluded.

Her scowl softened. _I love snow you overgrown ape but what's it to you?_

"I like snow too. Now we're getting somewhere." He grinned. "Have you ever been in love?" At that question she gave an expression he couldn't read at all. "Now that's just unfair."

"Do you ever shut up?" She spoke at last.

"I'll shut up when you start talking," He replied.

"Romantic love is for Morons," She smirked, "Which brings me to the conclusion that you've definitely been in love."

"As a matter of fact I have," He laughed at himself. "Would you like to know about her?"

"No but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway," Morgana rolled her eyes with an exasperated breath and lay back on the pillow with her hands behind her head.

"Well if you're going to beat it out of me," Percival snickered. "Years ago we made port in the kingdom you now govern. The sailors convinced me to have some fun. It was my eighteenth birthday. They drug me to a masquerade ball, the grandest party I'd ever been to. I had always found the concept of love at first sight a bit farfetched but as I lowered the wine glass from my lips and gazed across the dance floor there was a woman who made a believer out of me."

Morgana closed her eyes to envision this party and escape from prison for just a little while, "What did she look like?"

"Like Cinderella," He answered dreamily. "She was tall for a girl, blonde, a powder blue dress, with glass slippers. A beautiful mask that bore the appearance of a butterfly left much of her face to my imagination, only revealing a milky white chin and amazing red lips."

"So you like blonds," A look of indignation swept over Morgana's face.

She didn't know why she cared about his preferences. He was of low birth, friendly to a fault, and not at all what she'd choose in a mate. He was beneath her and yet as he said, "Actually I prefer dark hair," she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from curving up in a small smile.

"So why this blond?" she asked.

Usually Morgana's words were dripping with disdain; he smiled at her interest in his tale. "What captivated me most were her eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen."

"What color were they?"

"To be honest I don't remember," He shrugged.

Morgana huffed without opening her eyes her tone dripping with sarcasm, "You don't remember the color of the 'most beautiful' eyes you've ever seen?"

"I don't remember because it wasn't the color or even the shape of her eyes that captivated me. It was what was behind them," He explained. "I've never seen such kindness and decency in anyone's eyes. I'd never been one to dance but we danced the night away, laughing and sharing kisses without a care who bore witness to our love."

"This is the best night of my life," I whispered as I held her in my arms.

Her eyes became wet with tears as she glanced up at the clock, "It's nearly midnight I must get home soon."

"Or else what, your carriage will turn into a pumpkin," I joked. "Is your fairy godmother waiting for you?"

She snickered. Took me by the hand. Drunk on wine and love we raced through the grand hall. We pushed open each door calling apologies to couples in the throes of passion as we searched for a parlor of our own. And at last we found one. In a matter of moments we were down to our undergarments and she lay back on the thick soft rug and allowed me to take off her pantaloons. But when I reached for her mask she became frightened and stopped me.

I smiled even more intrigued by this amazing girl. _She will allow me to remove her panties but not her mask?_ "Alright I'll leave mine on to."

The fear melted from her face and I lowered myself upon her the tip of my arousal searching out her wetness. My intention was to go slow but she pulled me down into a kiss so passionate that my hips plunged forward without me even thinking to ask if she was a maiden.

As my pelvis joined with hers tears sprang to her eyes and she held onto my shoulders to brace herself. I knew at that point I had hurt her. I felt awful. It was my first time. I didn't know what to do. I pulled out of her, my mouth opened to speak, but couldn't find the words. She closed her knees, sat up on her elbows, and crawled back away from me on the rug.

I apologized repeatedly for hurting her and quickly covered myself with my tunic. Guilt overwhelmed me and my heart broke in that moment. "I'm so sorry… I really am. I… didn't mean to…"

She shushed me with the sweetest kiss to my lips, "You did nothing wrong."

She smiled and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and I pulled her down into my arms to rest her head upon my shoulder. As we lay in nothing but our masks and each other's arms all was perfect.

Yes my world was perfect until she was killed an hour later in the siege. I fought with all my heart but was defeated by magic. I failed to save Cinderella…

Percival glanced up from his contemplation to find a furious and disgusted Morgana. For some reason his tale of love had overwhelmed her with anger. Her blood boiled in her veins.

Her green eyes narrowed on him, "The woman you 'loved' was a drunken harlot who gave herself to a man she barely knew! Did this simple blonde twit even ask your name or was she too busy ripping off your clothes? And you are an utter idiot for mourning the loss of this wanton whore for as long as you have!"

Percival said nothing back in response to the stabbing words of the witch. He rose and walked out the door, at which point Morgana realized she had severely messed up. She'd pushed away the only one in Camelot who was kind to her.

As the door creaked once more her stomach fluttered at a second chance with her only ally but it wasn't him. It was merely a dark haired blacksmith who despised her.

"Kilgharrah," She sneered.

"Queen Morgana," He greeted respectfully though the corner of his upper lip curled in an unconscious display of contempt for her. "Some big tall sailor paid me to create these. Their binding bracelets normally used for children of magic who can't control their abilities yet."

"Yes," She agreed at once with having to be convinced. _I feel naked without my magic but anything would be better than these godforsaken chains._

Kilgharrah clasped the smooth elegant bracelets around her wrists and removed the heavy equipment. He tossed the hefty chains over his muscular shoulder glaring back at the witch as he exited. His upper lip doing the same curl, _I would've left her in the bloody chains._

xXx

Merlin and Kilgharrah paced the elegant high ceilinged corridors anxiously as men of nobility met in the counsel room. The dukes and lords fought over what to do in regard to their dying king. Arthur was bleeding internally and Alator tried to convince them he was beyond the reach of medicine and only magic could save him now. But the witch finder, Lord Aredian, was far more persuasive in his arguments.

Having been born of nobility before becoming a Catha the high priest was at least able to cast a vote for the life of the once and future king. But Arthur had outlawed magic the moment he became king and though Alator knew Arthur was beginning to feel differently about the old religion, the counsel was unaware of this change of heart.

Merlin gasped as he listened through the door. His chest tightened. He could barely breathe, "The counsel just voted to uphold the king's laws."

"But he'll die and the kingdom will fall into the hands of the witch!" Kilgharrah bellowed. "Is their ruling final?"

"Yes," Merlin said solemnly. "Only the king's next of kin may overturn a counsel ruling in regard to the king."

"His next of kin, the man who adopted him, shot him with a crossbow!" Kilgharrah exclaimed.

Merlin reminded his fire breathing friend, "Lancelot is not his next of kin."

Kilgharrah shook his head as the entire world came crashing down around him, "Arthur's life is resting in the hands of a woman who covets his throne. Gods help him… Gods help us all…"


	12. The Witch & the Woman

The Witch & the Woman

The ominous storm clouds loomed overhead, blocking the moonlight and every star in the midnight sky. The roof of Guinevere's rolling prison cell did little to shelter her from the incessant rain and the night air was making her wet body even colder. She could barely feel her fingers and toes. She was nearly as soaked as Lancelot and the small troop of mercenaries who were on horseback trotting at all sides of her cage.

_Maybe this is Lancelot's plan: to kill me by way of pneumonia, _Gwen grimaced as she crossed her arms over her chest for warmth, feverishly rubbing her skin to create friction.

"I'm sorry I failed you Milady. I am yours to command," Lancelot said as he rode alongside an accompanying stagecoach. "I tried everything in my power to keep them apart like you asked but the moment Arthur reached maturity they wanted each other. I even use to bed her while he lay in the next room to make him repulsed by her but it only made his obsession grow. I seduced her on the boat and tried to convince her to wed me before we arrived but she wouldn't hear of it."

"You should not have shot Arthur," Snapped a very pretty woman from inside the cozy stagecoach. "It was not his destiny to die by your hand! The gods may wreak vengeance if he dies. Why do you think I didn't just have you kill him years ago after you took over Lancelot's position as his guardian?"

The shade put his head down, the cold rain streaming from his nose and chin and lips as the woman he loved more than life itself chastised him like a child.

_He's like a lap dog. _Gwen thought as she peered through the bars at Lancelot. He'd been fawning over this woman the entire time. She possessed dark brown tresses, full cherry red lips, and florescent blue eyes. Gwen sat in the corner of her cage idly picking the straw from her filthy white gown as she wondered why this woman looked so familiar. _Where have I seen her before? What does she want with me? Why is Lancelot behaving like her pet?_

The woman continued her interrogation, "Why didn't you just marry Guinevere before Arthur reached Maturity?!"

Lancelot pleaded desperately with the elusive woman, "Milady please believe that I tried my best to marry Gwen but Queen Morgana did everything in her power to stop it! She even forced Gwen to wed the prince of Rome to keep her away from me! Morgana figured out I wasn't the Lancelot she grew up with. I think she only kept me around for as long as she did to lead her to you so she could avenge her father. Why didn't you summon a knight from the dead that she didn't know as well?"

"She wouldn't have paid such a lofty ransom for a soldier she didn't know as well," Answered a man from inside the stagecoach with a hearty sinister laugh.

Guinevere shuddered at the familiarity of the voice. Her blood turned to ice as a chill swept over her. _Gods no… Let it be anyone but him! _She forced down the lump in her throat. She fought to tune out the evil and familiar voice of the man in the stagecoach praying she was wrong, praying it was anyone else. Her mind filled with the images of every time Morgana had told her to stay away from Lancelot, that there was something different about him, something dark. _The day of Morgana's attack I knew no normal person could lose that much blood and live and still I pulled Lancelot from the puddle and tried to elope with him. I suppose it would be difficult for even Morgana to kill that which is already dead. It's all so clear to me now. When I refused to listen Morgana forced me to marry another man at knife point. In her own evil bitch way I guess she was protecting me, _A shiver trickled down Gwen's spine tears pooling in her as she prayed that Arthur survived the ambush, even if she wouldn't. _I love you Arthur and I pray you never find out what's happening to me. That I'm confined to a cage being rolled to slaughter like an animal. I heard them say we were going to the Isle of the blessed and that they're going to sacrifice me, pierce my heart with a dagger. They're going to release the __dorrocha__…_

xXx

_The Dilemma_

In the wee hours of the morning fiery torches cast a pale orange glow upon the cold dank walls of the tower. Merlin, Alator, and Kilgharrah all debated the greatest dilemma of their lives. How was Arthur to be saved by a woman who hated his guts? This was the very woman who hired a henchman to murder him, the very woman who just recently attacked his kingdom. After Merlin, Alator, and Kilgharrah suggested breaking Arthur's laws in order to save him, none of them had been allowed anywhere near the king. Merlin was beginning to sense that many of Arthur's _noble_ councilmen welcomed the king's untimely demise. They had grown tired of the fighting and just yearned for the kingdoms to be united once more under Uther's lawful heir. They secretly cursed their late sovereign for drafting the Treaty of Camelot, which split the vast kingdom of Ealdor down the middle; leaving half to be governed by the rightful queen Morgana, and the other half to be governed by Uther's illegitimate bastard King Arthur. Now Morgana was Arthur's only hope. Someone needed to plead Arthur's case but whom?

"I'll talk to her," Merlin offered.

"You'll do no such thing," Alator spoke up. "Need I remind you that you annulled your marriage to her ward and brought the Lady Guinevere back to the Britain Isle, incidentally placing her into the arms of Lancelot and in harm's way? You're the last person Morgana would want to see."

"You're right," Merlin confessed solemnly as he paced the tower halls.

"Give me five minutes alone with her. I'll make her help Arthur," Kilgharrah snarled.

"She isn't one to be pushed around," Alator confessed. "She doesn't take kindly to bullying. She'd sooner die than help you help Arthur. Besides if you don't truly believe in Morgana's potential to do anything good then why would she believe in herself?"

Kilgharrah put his head down knowing the Catha was right, "It has to be you Alator. There is no other way."

Alator scoffed, "I can't convince Morgana of anything. I'm the man who captured and tortured her."

"Then how will we convince her," Merlin called out desperately needing the future of peace, tranquility and acceptance Arthur was destined to bring.

"We won't convince her of anything," Alator answered. "He will."

Merlin and Kilgharrah looked down from the barred tower window as Percival talked with two friends in the courtyard.

"Do you believe it will work," Merlin asked. "He's a merchant sailor. Morgana would probably think he's beneath her."

"And yet when the sailor wasn't looking I caught the dark queen gazing at him," Alator admitted, his face a mask of confusion and disbelief. "And she… she… smiled."

Merlin and Kilgharrah gasped horror. "She smiled!"

"Shocked the hell out of me too," Alator admitted. "Morgana's soul has been corrupted by the practice of dark magic but if there is a shred of decency left in the queen Percival will be the one to draw it out of her."

xXx

_Necromancy_

"Woo Hoo! Dead, dead, dead. Arthur's soon to be dead. Dead, dead, dead. Arthur's soon to be dead!" Morgana chanted the lyrics to her rather morbid song as she danced around her grungy tower room in triumph.

She didn't know all the details. The guards had done a good job at keeping her in the dark. All she knew was that the bane of her existence had been shot with a crossbow and his council was perfectly willing to let him die. _Once my kingdom is whole once more I'll have to find this assassin and reward him handsomely. I wonder if it was one of King Odin's men. Arthur did kill his son in a duel. _

Morgana's dance ended abruptly at the sound of knocking.

"Milady," Called the deep voice on the other side of the door.

She gasped. _What on earth is Percival doing here?! It has to be three o'clock in the morning!_ "One moment."

She scrambled about for a robe to cover her gown. She picked up the water picture using it's mirrored surface to gage her reflection. _Bugger! _With no comb at her disposal she used her fingers to break through the tangles of her messy hair. _Wait a minute… Why on earth am I trying to impress a sailor? _At that thought she set the pitcher aside and stopped fussing with herself. _You're twenty-four years old Morgana. It's time to grow up. _

"You may enter," She called, her voice a little sullen. There was a series of metallic clinks as he unlocked the heavy barrier.

"What do you want at this hour," Morgana said in her usual bitch tone. "Please say that you're here to tell me Arthur's dead and I'm free to govern all of MY lands."

Percival tossed a metallic object to her.

Morgana caught it in the air. Her brows furrowed with concern, "This bracelet belongs to Gwen. Why do you have it?!"

"You haven't heard have you," Percival said. "The assassin you yearn to reward for shooting Arthur also kidnapped your ward."

Morgana couldn't breathe. She just kept shaking her head no with a trembling hand over her mouth. Percival helped her down onto her bed and took a seat next to her.

"Lancelot took her," He explained. "Camelot's best trackers have been searching for Lady Guinevere all to no avail. Merlin and Alator are convinced that magic is being used to cover Lancelot's tracks. The only man who knows what happened in that room is lying on his death bed. King Arthur is our only chance at finding Gwen. Do you love your ward more than you hate your brother?"

"Gwen should have listened to me!" Morgana stiffened her shoulders in steely pride, "I will not save Arthur. I will not save Arthur!"

Percival drew in a deep breath, "When I came here to bring you food and tend to your wounds you asked why I chose to help you. I didn't answer the question because I didn't know myself but now I do. Nine years ago I met a girl who possessed genuine kindness; a very rare trait to find in a person because human nature is inherently selfish. But I saw pure goodness and decency in her. And I come to this tower everyday because I see the very same thing in you."

Morgana laughed without humor, "Have you been drinking sailor? I want Arthur dead nothing more. If that means Gwen must perish too then so be it."

"If you no longer care for your ward then why did you try to kill Lancelot?" Percival demanded.

Morgana fell silent unable to come up with an excuse for her behavior.

"I'm not a simpleton your majesty," Percival replied. "You and your men came to Camelot breaking arms and legs. You even commanded your skeleton troops to do the same. Your intent was to injure not kill. And had you stuck to your plan you might have never been captured but when you saw Lancelot…"

"I just had to destroy him," Morgana admitted. "I had to keep him away from her."

Percival enquired, "You knew something was off about him didn't you."

Morgana nodded solemnly, "Three years ago the Roman Emperor Cenred asked me for my father's bastard but at the time I was weak and foolish."

"You refused to give Arthur up," Percival smiled softly.

"I was an idiot," Morgana shook her head thoughtfully. "My refusal to hand Arthur over caused the second siege of Ealdor. We fell under attack. It told my champion to hide my bastard brother and protect Arthur with his life."

"That's when Sir Lancelot was captured," Percival concluded.

"I nearly broke my kingdom paying Lancelot's ransom three years ago," Morgana confessed. "I couldn't allow him to die. He was my best friend in the world. I boarded a vessel with him to return to the Isle of Britain. That's when I first noticed a change in him. He no longer became sea sick, though he use to get violently ill on ships. He was eating an entire bowl of oysters without so much as a hive, though he used to be severely allergic to shellfish."

"People grow out of such ailments," Percival offered.

"Yes but over a course of years," Morgana explained. "Not in a matter of just a few months but I prayed to the gods I was just being paranoid. When our ship at last docked in Ealdor and Lancelot broke off his engagement to the love of his life and asked me for the hand of my thirteen year old ward I knew in my heart that my best friend had perished and that I had paid the ransom of an imposter. I agreed to meet with him alone to discuss the potential of his betrothal to Gwen. Prior to our meeting I chalked a large spiral marking of the old religion on the floor. I hastily covered it with a rug. Lancelot strode across the room moments later. As he stepped over the enchanted seal it began to glow right through the rug and his face revealed a skeletal death mask. My world ended in that moment. My best friend was dead," Her voice broke and she breathed in and out several times to keep a cap on her emotions. "Sir Lancelot's soul or at least a piece of it had been raised from the underworld by the dark art of Necromancy. I had heard that true love was the only way to break the shade's hold over Gwen. And I thought the prince of Rome was a great young man with a good heart. I figured if I forced Gwen to marry him the enchantment would be broken and I would also gain a long sought after alliance with Rome. Everyone wins. I was wrong in assuming that Myrddin was noble and virtuous. He annulled his marriage to my ward and placed her right back into the arms of a shade."

_She looks so broken, so defeated. _Percival reached over to caress her delicate hand with his own and she yearned for the warmth of his tender touch in her greatest moment of conflict; but he abandoned the attempt for fear of upsetting her. He brought his massive hand down to rest upon his own knee without noticing the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

_I better not, _He sighed. _Its one thing for me to touch her for sake of treating her wounds; its another for me to touch her merely because I want to and she looks so sad. She's torn between the witch and the woman. _"Your majesty, I am begging you. Save King Arthur."

Since Percival respectfully declined from taking her hand she took it upon herself to brace his. As Morgana looked upon the earnest face of her handsome savior she nodded yes before even considering the full weight of her decision. For in the moment she vowed to save her brother's life she realized she wasn't doing it for Arthur, or even entirely for Gwen. _I am in love with this sailor and nothing can ever happen between us... _

**I didn't end this chapter on a cliffhanger! Proud of me :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	13. Dark Magic

Dark Magic

"It's risky," Kilgharrah said as he stood in the torch lit high ceiling corridor with Percival and Morgana. "She could kill everyone the moment she's out of the binding bracelet's and make her escape."

Morgana fumed at the way this fire breather spoke about her, a queen, as if she wasn't standing right there, "If I wanted to kill everyone I would just wait until Arthur died in a day or two and after I inherited his kingdom I'd simply give the orders to have all of you executed. I don't give a damn about you, Arthur, or Camelot right now! I merely yearn to rescue my ward from that thing that kidnapped her! If it were possible to do that without Arthur believe me I would; however if I don't revive him to find out what he knows I may never see Gwen alive again. I have more incentive than anyone to save his miserable life."

Kilgharrah clutched the small key to her bracelets entirely unconvinced of Morgana's benevolence. _Time and time again she has proved herself conniving, selfish, manipulative, and power hungry to the point of destructive. _The blacksmith's grip tightened on the key.

"What choice do we have," Percival reminded him. "Your dragon's mist still hasn't regenerated from saving Freya. Alator is a trained torturer. He knows little if anything about healing magic. And Merlin may very well grow up to prove himself this Emrys of legend, but as of now he's a seventeen year old kid who hasn't practiced magic for long enough to save Arthur. Merlin could end up killing himself, the king or both. For King Arthur's sake we must put our faith in the queen."

Morgana embedded her teeth in her bottom lip until it hurt in order to keep from smiling. She could have floated away in that moment. _Percival is like Prince Charming always coming to my defense, always believing in me. Stop! Stop! Stop thinking about this lowly sailor! I'm betrothed to the first son of King Odin, Prince Valiant. He has wealth, and power, and magic; Valiant and I have everything in common… And yet… And yet I don't love him... _She let out a deep sigh looking over at Percival; tall and strong and the definition of noble. _Those twinkle blue eyes. That devil may care smile. I would love nothing more than to run my fingers through that soft straw colored hair as he ravished me like a naughty barbarian. God's have mercy! _She chastised herself, _I don't need love, or passion, or any of the things simpletons waste time on. I need an alliance with King Odin. I need a husband who can impregnate me with legitimate heirs of noble birth. I need a prince who understands what its like to bear the burden of a crown and magic. I need someone like me, strong merciless and willing to do whatever it takes. This sailor is nothing like me; therefore I can't possibly love him… _

"Your majesty, your majesty," Percival had been calling her for quite some time. She'd been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even heard him. She hadn't even noticed that Kilgharrah had removed her binding bracelets.

"I'm ready," She nodded.

Kilgharrah noticed she didn't have so much as a potion, charm, or book of spells. "How exactly do you plan on saving him?"

"Don't worry. Your precious bastard king will be fine," Morgana rolled her eyes at Kilgharrah with a snarl. But as she turned to Percival her expression softened. Her look mirroring something a kind to sincerity, her voice began to tremble as if she was frightened of something, "No matter what happens please make certain that Arthur finds Gwen."

"Why are you speaking this way milady," Percival asked, his gorgeous face drawn with concern. "You're not about to do something dangerous are you?"

Morgana laughed hysterically, "To save Arthur? Underworld NO! If I had a colon polyp I would name it Arthur Pendragon. "

Even Kilgharrah laughed at that one. _Now that's what you call a pain in the ass._

She snickered at her brother's expense until she realized she was joking with the enemy. Morgana wiped the smile from her lovely face and released an exasperated breath, "Wait here. I'll only be a moment."

Kilgharrah whispered to Percival, "How on earth did you convince her to do something decent?"

"By believing that she could," Percival answered.

The odor of rotting meat and maggoty cheese knocked Morgana back three feet. The room reeked of sickness and death. Arthur's wound had become infected at an impossible rate, most likely due to the crossbow having a spell of dark magic cast upon it. This was why no surgical technique could close his wound. The stitches were there one moment and gone the next. The sutures vanished into thin air. Dark magic was also the reason medicinal herbs proved ineffective to combat his infection, or cease the internal bleeding.

Vomit rose from the pit of Morgana's stomach clear up to her throat threatening to explode from her mouth. She could feel the wind collecting in her jaws, her mouth filling with saliva, the subtle jerking of her diaphragm, all signs that she was soon to lose her dinner. She raised both hands slowly and all of Arthur's windows cranked open at once. With a fresh breeze blowing through, Morgana forced down the nausea and made her way across the room.

Arthur was the size of a full grown man and still he looked so small in the giant bed. She sunk into the mattress beside him yearning not to touch him; not out of hate, but merely because of how fragile he looked, as if her fingertips would shatter him like glass. He was pale, his lips chapped and purple, classic signs of too much blood loss. Morgana's stomach turned flips, she felt sick, and dizzy; but not from the smell, that was long gone. She was sick at the sight of Arthur reduced to nothing. She'd fought with him so long that it never dawned on her she would have to watch him die someday. This was just sad, upsetting, unpleasant. Morgana expected to feel nothing at all when she walked in this room, and yet some part of her, even in its smallest measure was furious to see him this way. _The son of a Pendragon should die gloriously in battle, not stinking and shivering in a pool of his own sweat. Even if we duel to the death tomorrow I have got to revive him today. This is not a death worthy of a king, even an illegitimate one. _

It was confusing how conflicted she felt. The witch in her yearned to smother Arthur with a pillow as he lay unconscious and unable to defend himself, but the woman that was still his sister yearned to skin the shade for even daring to harm her brother. Arthur's locks were darkened wet with perspiration and she found herself gingerly brushing them back from his burning hot face. She lay next to him and placed her hand over the sticky bandage on his side. It was saturated with yellow puss and brown blood. She reeled in disgust before forcing her hand back on the wound.

She forced down the lump in her throat and took a deep breath, conjuring all of the magic within her being, "You better find her Arthur."

Arthur groggily turned his head to and fro, the vision of his bed chamber was hazy before eventually coming into focus. He had a massive migraine and his wrists hurt like hell. He ever slowly raised them to take a look. A peeling red band of skin four fingers wide encircled each wrist. He slapped his nasty looking arms down at each side of him, yearning not to look upon these unexplained markings any longer. That's when one of his hands fell upon something too soft to be a bed tray and to firm to be a pillow. He slowly turned his head sideways, "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Morgana lay still, eyes shut, blood running from the corners of her slightly opened mouth. A round black hole had appeared in her side. The circle of blood grew exponentially as her panicking brother shook her, screaming for help.

"MERLIN!"

Merlin, Alator, Percival, and Kilgharrah were the first to bust into the room. Arthur's counsel of twenty nobles came running in next. A domino effect of shock, confusion, and horror, came crashing from one face to the next, boom, boom, boom.

Percival pulled a hysterical Arthur away while Alator tried to stop her bleeding. Everyone tried to make sense of what happened. Frantic murmurs and accusations were fired like cannon balls. Arthur demanded to know who'd done this. And then the boy king saw the grinning face of the witch finder, Aredian, who hadn't said a word thus far.

The witch finder just watched Morgana bleed out on the bed with a smug satisfied smile and when he finally moved his lips to make words he merely chimed, "Long live the king."

One large collective gasp sounded off throughout the room followed by silence, dead silence. Even Percival, and all his muscle, could not contain Arthur as he lept across the room tackling Aredian onto the hard stone floors.

"You wanted her dead! Now she's been shot!"Arthur shouted with his hands around the witch finder's throat, "I'll kill you!"

"He didn't do it Arthur," Merlin said as he pried Arthur's fingers from the gasping throat of Aredian.

"She did this to herself," Kilgharrah explained as the whole room listened up. "She saved you by means of dark magic, a process called transference. It's what witches do to stay young beautiful and immortal. When a witch is gravely injured or just getting old she'll switch her failing health for the vitality of an unsuspecting victim." Kilgharrah didn't have to explain further.

Arthur knew the guilt ridden agonizing truth; he spoke with a trembling hand over his forehead, rubbing his temples with agitated fingers as he stared down at the floor. He murmured without ever looking up, "Morgana transferred health with me. That's why I merely have her shackle marks around my wrists and she now bears a wound of mine that's going to kill her. And if I don't save Guinevere it will have all been in vain."

At those words Percival found the air in the room too hot and heavy to breath. He fled the chamber in shock and pain for a woman who never had a kind word to say about him. What was it about Morgana that made his heart drop into his stomach at the thought of her suffering, at the awareness of her eminent demise?

Arthur started after him but whipped around as Merlin shouted, "She's trying to say something!"

Arthur carelessly shoved his noblemen and guards aside as he made his way toward the bed. She was a sweating sickly mess, a mask of death in its purest form just as Arthur had been. He took a seat and held Morgana's pale clammy hand, careful not to hold it too tightly. She wanted to tear her hand away from him on principle alone but hadn't the strength so she left it where it was. Plus there was some strange sense of comfort in the simple embrace of her sworn enemy especially as she saw the tears in his eyes. She knew love was an unimportant emotion that often caused leaders to make bad decisions, but she had to admit if only to herself that it felt profoundly wonderful to be loved by her brother. Though this new knowledge of Arthur's feelings would make it that much harder to kill him in the future. At that brutal revelation she conjured all of the strength in her soul to reluctantly free her hand of him, her heart of him. Arthur sat with his hand on the bed still curved in a loose grasp of nothing at all. At last he pulled back the hand Morgana had abandoned as if retreating from an attack.

He started to thank her for saving his life, and promise to find a cure for her but he knew she wouldn't care about that. Instead Arthur told her exactly what she saved his life to hear. "I heard Lancelot say something about the coming holiday, Samhain's Eve, and someone named Dorocha. And he took off east with Gwen as his captive."

Morgana nodded and spoke in a feeble voice, nearly a whisper, "Gwen is being taken to the Isle of the blessed. At the stroke of midnight on Samhain's eve the Veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. You must hurry Arthur. You have mere days until he kills her."

"I won't let you down," Arthur vowed with a squeeze of her hand and rose from her bedside. He beckoned to Alator and whispered, "Save my sister by any means necessary. Even if Morgana and I duel to the death tomorrow I cannot, will not, watch her suffer like this. This is not a death worthy of a Queen."

Alator nodded in agreement, "I'll do all I can."

"And Merlin"

"Yes Arthur"

"Where did you say the sailor's and former knights hung out?"

"Gwaine's"

"We must go to this tavern in hope of convincing all the men I spurned to help save Guinevere," Arthur said. "I know Lancelot was the one who took her, but I also know the heart of Lance. He may have kicked my ass for stealing his girl but he would not have tried to kill me, and he certainly wouldn't have harmed Guinevere under any circumstances. This has Nimueh's name written all over it. And if she's involved I'm going to need the Knights of the Round Table."

"I'll prepare the horse's for the trip to the tavern," Merlin assured him as Alator and Kilgharrah worked diligently to save Morgana.

Arthur kissed the ring Gwen proposed to him with the morning after he kissed her and caressed her and made sweet beautiful love to her. With an unbridled determination Arthur set off to plan his attack. _Hang in there Guinevere. You will be saved and we will be wed…_


	14. Apocalypse

Apocalypse

Morgana's arm limply hung over Arthur's broad shoulders as he hooked an arm around her waist to help her walk. With Arthur's aide she slowly made her way to the magnificent fountain in the garden of Camelot. The flowing stone structure was roughly the size of a house with a great statue of Poseidon protruding from its center. This vast fountain with its rushing shimmering waters was the only thing left of beauty here. The garden no longer qualified as such. The grass crunched beneath their shoes. The fruit rotted, blackened, and fell dead from the trees. The flowers had withered and died, and all throughout Britain people's crops had turned to ash.

Arthur sighed and shook his head. _Even after I save Guinevere how long could she possibly live with this plague? How long will any of us? The palace store rooms are nearly depleted and the plague is only growing worse. We're rapidly approaching an Apocalypse. _He looked over his sister to gage her health. _Morgana is still sick but she's going to be alright. Unlike me Morgana naturally possesses the magic to fight a magical disease. She's recovering on her own. Thank God. _

Arthur gently sat Morgana on the cool fountain's edge and informed her, "Give me just a moment to get rid of him. She nodded and began to swirl her fingertips around in the chilly gurgling waters. Arthur ventured on the other side of the crispy row of hedges_. _He closed in on the approaching Aredian.

"I had no right to attack you," Arthur humbly told the witch finder. "Morgana confessed that you did nothing to her and it was her own magic which brought her harm."

"Thank you Sire but I haven't come for an apology," Aredian took a deep breath and pleaded with Arthur in a hushed whisper, "Sire I implore you to give Morgana Pendragon to the Council of Kings before her plague of discord kills us all."

"That plague caused a hurricane which nearly drowned Guinevere," Arthur reminded Aredian. "Why would Morgana send a storm that would kill her own ward?"

"I don't know," The witch finder admitted. "Maybe she's not doing it on purpose but her turbulent spirit is causing disorder and chaos. Please kill her and save us all."

"If you leave us be I can get her to save us," Arthur growled through clenched teeth. "Now please just leave us alone Lord Aredian."

"Even if there's a chance in hell that you could get that wicked crone to cry real tears and end _this_ plague, why on earth would you save a corrupt goddess who could destroy the planet the next time she gets her knickers in a twist," Aredian snapped in a hushed tone. "Now is not the time for weakness your majesty! We must take action! Strike at the heart of magic once and for all!"

"Magic saved my life!"The whispering ended as Arthur yelled in frustration, "May I have a moment alone with my sister please!"

Morgana jumped and looked around at the sound of her furious brother. Aredian tucked tail and left them be and Arthur reappeared from behind the dead dry bushes.

"He has a point Arthur," Morgana admitted, having heard a small part of the conversation. The boy king lowered onto the fountain's edge next to her and she informed him. "You're wasting your time. I'm a witch Arthur. I haven't been able to cry true tears since the day I started practicing dark magic. If I could I would have already. My people are starving too."

"Don't focus on crying," He sandwiched her hand between his. "Just focus on telling the truth."

"Okay," She agreed.

Arthur breathed in and out slowly at least three times unsure of how to begin such a conversation, "I have good news. Alator said that you're not the Goddess of Discord. You're merely two spirited."

She breathed a sigh of relief but still felt a bit confused, "What on Earth does two spirited mean?"

"It means you harbor a great propensity for evil."

Her shoulders slouched in defeat at his words, "How is that good news?"

He squeezed her hand and further explained, "You hold an equally great capacity for good. But the balance between darkness and light is very delicate with you."

She nodded, "I think I understand."

"I didn't want to have you tortured but I needed your secrets. Thanks to Alator now I have them," Arthur grinned impishly.

"Bugger," Morgana's head fell back. "What all did that bald funny talking jerk tell you?"

Arthur smirked, "Alator asked you what was the greatest lie you ever told. He tortured you into saying the Treaty of Camelot." Arthur pulled the rolled up treaty from a cylindrical container on his shoulder. "I had Geoffrey, the royal curator, examine this. It isn't father's hand writing upon this document but yours."

Morgana turned her back to Arthur refusing to look at him or the royal decree she'd forged in her father's name.

Arthur tucked the treaty away. "You loved me Morgana. You loved me so much that you gave me half your kingdom. I couldn't make sense of this and since you can't breathe without lying I was forced to ask Alator to interrogate you once more. I needed to know how you could go from legitimizing my birth and naming me heir to a kingdom, to hiring a henchman to murder me."

Morgana began to breathe rapidly as tears built up in her eyes.

"Alator asked your greatest secret, the root of all your malevolence and hatred toward me." Arthur put a hand on her shoulder forced her to face him once more. He lifted her chin until her big green eyes met his. "You told Alator that I was actually fourteen. This made no sense to the Catha but perfect sense to me after I had done the simple math. My true age would have placed your mother, Lady Helen, on her sick bed during the time father was whoring around with her best friend, my mum."

Morgana brought her palm across Arthur's face so hard you could've heard the smack for a mile. She left a large red hand print on his jaw as her chest rose and fell with furious breaths. "This conversation is over Arthur!"

He didn't relent. He actually seemed pleased at her response, that he had been able to at last poke the tender human being beneath the stony shell that was the witch. "How long after the signing of the treaty did it take you to find out how old I actually was, days, months, years?"

"I hate you Arthur! I hate you and your ambitious whore of a mother!" Morgana exclaimed. "After I found out I had a brother I was determined to make things fair. I didn't think it was right how father was so ashamed that he never even acknowledged you, allowed you to live in poverty while we lived the life of royalty. I was so young and foolish. After he died I fought to legitimize your birth and forged the Treaty of Camelot in his name. I was a fifteen year old queen and I knew the elders would never support or abide by such a treaty without the backing of their late sovereign. I also put the treaty in Uther's name because my magic often made me feel unloved by our magic hating father, even though he didn't know I possessed it."

"You didn't want me to grow up feeling unloved by our father," Arthur smiled softly with tears in his eyes. "So you gave me the lands in his name. And after you found out that my mother betrayed her dying friend, you were unable to undo a decree composed by 'father'. The only way to have all of Ealdor back was to fight me for it."

Morgana painfully rose from the fountain stones and warned the bane of her existence, "That was a very different Morgana that made you king of Camelot, a very young and stupid Morgana. This conversation changes nothing Arthur. The moment Gwen is safe I will issue an official declaration of war against your kingdom. And should we faceoff on the battle front I won't hesitate to strike you dead."

Arthur caught up with her as she limped away. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms as she flailed and fought him until she fell to her knees worn out from her fit and he still did not let her go.

"Let me go!" Morgana screamed. "I demand that you release me!"

"You are my blood, whether you like it or not. I will never let you go Morgana and I'll never give up on you." Arthur continued to hold his furious heaving sister, who lacked the strength to fight any longer. And she relented and sat upon the crispy brown grass in his embrace of brotherly affection.

He spoke softly into her hair, "You are very intelligent Morgana except when it comes to men. You believe that our father didn't love you or your dying mother and I am the living breathing proof of that, and so you hate me. You hate me for merely being born. You couldn't be more wrong about father. Men don't deal with problems. We just distract ourselves from them. When I couldn't be with the woman I love I chased down a random girl, dropped my trousers, and banged her in a hallway."

Morgana's torso shook with laughter in her brother's arms, "Way to face the problem head on Arthur." _This idiot would have sooner married his assassin than confronted his feelings for Gwen. Where is Lamia anyway…_

Arthur laughed at himself, "Men deal with issues of the heart by not dealing with them. Beneath the crown our father was just a man who was watching the love of his life deteriorate. It was likely destroying him. He sought a distraction, a means of numbing himself. I need you to forgive him Morgana. It's the only way you will ever be able to accept me. I… am… not your enemy." The last few words came out a choked sob.

Morgana pulled herself from Arthur's embrace at the sound of his voice cracking. She turned to find his face shiny with tears. She choked out in almost a whisper, "You lie Arthur… I saw a vision. You stole my throne and reduced me to live in a hovel! And that Merlin helped you betray me."

"Sister your vision was wrong," Arthur declared reaching out to her.

"My visions are never wrong," She swore reeling from him.

"Well then this dream was from a different life!" Arthur said vehemently. "Father loved you Morgana! I LOVE YOU! What will it take to make you see that?"

Morgana looked as though she'd been blasted with a cannon ball as her mind began to whirl with revelations. _What if Arthur is right about my vision? It was strange that I was the illegitimate heir in that dream, and Arthur was crowned prince. Oh my gods… Have I hated this Arthur for what an entirely different Arthur may do a hundred years from now? _A distraught Morgana whispered more so to herself than her brother. "I'm sorry Arthur."

Morgana's face fell into her hands and her shoulders began to heave as they sat together on the hard dry grass. A single glistening tear brought forth from hearing her brother admissions of love for her went falling from her eye. A tidal wave of life rippled around it. The brown grass turned back to its beautiful emerald green. The trees sprung to life bearing flowers and lush fruits. One minute they were surrounded by a desolate waste land and the next they were standing in the Garden of Eden.

"You did it Morgana!" Arthur pulled her to her feet and swung her around triumphantly. "You saved us all!"

She smiled happily through her tears a little dizzy and sore from his whirling her about. When she got her bearings she informed her brother, "No Arthur. It was you who saved us all. And I love you too but if you tell anyone I said that I will deny it with every fiber of my being and run you through with a sword."

"I'll take what I can get," He chuckled passing her a handkerchief.

But she didn't use it. She allowed her tears of happiness and peace and love for her brother to fall and replenish the earth.

"Somebody must have cried," The Catha remarked as he walked into the lush green garden. "I'm sorry for what I did to you milady."

"I'm not," Morgana assured him. "I hold no ill feelings toward you."

Alator removed the hood from his bald head and inform them solemnly, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but you know how the Isle of the blessed is a moving Island and no one can find it without a special map that magically changes along with the island's location."

Arthur spoke up, "I already gave you the location of the map. It's in the castle vault on top of a sarcophagus beneath a blue heart shaped sapphire as big as two of your fists put together. You can't miss it."

Alator informed him regretfully, "Both the Sapphire and the map are gone. Has anyone in particular been nosing around your vaults?"

Arthur's heart dropped into his stomach and Morgana could see the color drain from his face. Arthur could barely breathe. It felt as if he'd been kicked in the chest by a horse, "That thieving weasel Cedric stole my only way to find Guinevere."

Arthur looked physically ill. Morgana grasped both of his arms and demanded, "Look at me Arthur. Look at me!" He snapped to attention and Morgana reminded him. "Gwen is stronger than you and she's smarter than me. If she can remember how to use the orb I gave her she can help us find her."

"You gave it to her so long ago," Droned a distraught Arthur.

"I know," Morgana admitted. "But all she needs to remember is two spells. Just two measly spells Arthur. You've been great through all of this. Don't fall apart on me now. You can still save her Arthur."

"How do you know that?!"

Morgana swore whole heartedly, "Because you've already saved me."

xXx

Aredian, the witch finder, looked on in complete horror as the leaves sprouted and vines grew up the tree bark before his eyes. His icy blue eyes narrowed on Morgana Pendragon as she obliviously planned Gwen's rescue with Alator and her brother. The witch finder grimaced. _No one person should possess this much power. The king is too young and naïve to see the threat his wicked sister poses to all of us. If Arthur won't turn her over to the Council of Kings then I will._ Aredian smiled wickedly feeling warm and tingly all over as he envisioned Morgana's head being lopped from her twitching body in a swift and brutal execution. The witch finder stormed off to hatch a plan that would bring about her doom, without knowing that she wasn't the goddess of discord. He was completely unaware of just how important she truly was. Morgana Pendragon was the missing Element of Albion and all would be lost without her. In killing Morgana the Council of Kings was certain to cause the end of days. Morgana's eminent execution was soon to bring about an Apocalypse...


	15. The Mystical Orb

**Author's Note: Dear Gwen lovers I'm so sorry I was running late for work and had to post the last chapter before I could add the scenes with Gwen. So I'm posting the rest of it right now :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Mystical Orb

Gwen has kissed Lancelot many times but now it disgusts her. She feels nothing for him and is gradually coming to realize that she had never truly felt anything for him. The sensation of his revolting lips upon hers is enough to make her nauseous. Her stomach rolls as his tongue begs entry to her mouth and she fights the urge to vomit, forces her lips to part. _This final embrace this long kiss goodnight will at least serve a purpose._ She tells herself again and again as she relents to the shade's affections. _Is he even human?_

She shoves him away the moment she's securely fastened her grip on the satchel from his sword belt.

"This isn't personal Gwen," Lancelot said as his lips parted from hers. "I must do as my mistress commands."

Gwen nods in faux understanding as she hides the belongings she stole from him. "I forgive you Lancelot." _You possessed me! Stole my virtue! I wish I could castrate you with the blunt side of a rock. You manipulative undead bastard. _She fights the urge to strike out at him with all the strength within her slender arms, but she knows she'll never see the light of day if she does. She breathes slowly bringing her boiling blood down to a simmer.

"Goodbye Gwen," He closes the heavy door behind him shutting out all light and Gwen can't be happier to see him leave.

Gwen was almost relieved to have arrived at their destination. She can finally be alone, finally rest if only on a rickety bed in a prison cell, finally plot her escape. She riffles blindly through his leather pouch, disappointed not to find a sharp object for all her troubles. But her eyes light up as the few glimmers of pale moonlight break through the barred window and shine upon something even better. _Thank you gods! _

She lays in darkness praying that Arthur will live. She fears less for herself than for him. Guinevere tries to keep her spirits up and envisions herself escaping unharmed. She believes envisioning the future helps to shape it; and upon her glorious moment of freedom she will eat pie and cake and cookies until she throws up or humiliates herself or both. She hasn't been sick since childhood but even vomiting reminds her she's alive. Once free, she will celebrate with the knights and challenge Gwaine to a drinking contest so severe both of them will be staring up at the underside of a tavern table. Free, she will make love to Arthur with all the passion in her soul until his nectar springs forth hot and sweet inside of her and he vows to the gods to never look upon another woman. Free, she will work day and night to patch up her relationship with Morgana and once they are friends again, sisters again, Gwen will force Morgana to wear something other than black to the wedding. And rid Morgana of every dark and malevolent influence that corrupts her soul starting with that fiancé of hers, Prince Valiant. _Morgana got herself captured trying to free me of Lancelot. There is still good in her and I will escape from this place and save her from herself. _

Gwen prays that her beautiful husband to be will survive this nightmare. _Arthur is physically beautiful of course but the most incredible thing about him is his soul. He has a deep and quiet strength, without which he would not have survived imprisonment, slavery, his sister._ _But I worry that certain aspects of Arthur's personality will get him killed. His need to believe the best about people has often caused him to put his trust in the wrong people. His far too forgiving nature has led to him being betrayed at times. I pray for you to stay strong my love and stay alive. _

During her prayers and contemplations about gluttony, vomiting, drinking, sisterhood, and unspeakable acts of debauchery she works feverishly at a nail which holds her bed frame together. The wood is rough and she hopes that the planks are heavy enough to have required heavier than usual nails. The nail she's infatuated with has a large flat head. The size of the head suggests that the nail may be big and she can only pray it's as sharp as it is long. This simple tool will be the key to her finding the orb, saving herself, and preventing the destruction of the world.

The flat head of the nail is not flush with the board. It's raised a fraction of an inch and this gap provides her with leverage to wiggle the nail back and forth. It isn't loose but Gwen doesn't care. Her greatest virtue is perseverance. She will keep working at the nail, and she will envision it loose and eventually she will extract it from the plank.

Gwen picks, picks, picks at the nail until her fingers ache and then she uses two different fingers. As the eerie silent minutes pass she tries not to dwell on how a week that began with the joy of her and Arthur's love making, the happiness of their engagement, could spiral into such desperate and bleak circumstances. Instead she envisions herself married to Arthur with a child of three; sometimes a girl, sometimes a boy. The child is playing and laughing in the courtyard, challenging Arthur to a duel with a wooden sword. Arthur fights on his knees to even the odds and soon falls in a dramatic death. As the child checks on slain papa Arthur springs to life and chases the happily startled little one around the grass. Guinevere envisions this more vividly than she has ever envisioned anything before, in hopes that she can make it come to pass. _I will be strong. I will not cry._

Though tears come at times they do not fall. To shut off the flow she works more aggressively at the stubborn nail in the blinding darkness. After an endless period of silence she hears a tink as the nail slips from her fingertips, wet with blood, and hits the stone floor. Gwen leaps from the bed. Scrambles about the floor until she pulls the nail into her grasp. She feels the marble sized lump on the underside of her upper arm wishing she could remember the spell Morgana had taught her to magically extract the orb, but her failed attempts have at least brought the object to the surface. Gwen remembers the incantations to use the powerful device and that is the most important thing. With unwavering fortitude Gwen places a rolled up cloth firmly between her teeth and the point of the nail to the superficial layer of skin that covers the orb. _I'll just have to manually extract it. I will not die in this place._

She bites down on the handkerchief to swallow her painful cries as she uses the nail to cut the orb from the tender flesh of her arm. She gasps in relief and delight as it falls free. The cloth falls from her mouth and she uses it to wipe the blood from the pearl shaped object. She gazes at the mystical orb, almost mesmerized by it. It looks as if a tiny galaxy is swirling around in the palm of her hand.

"Apolithurous transportatium."

Within a flash Guinevere has vanished and materialized on the other side of the island. Her heart leaps as she makes her way to the water's edge. She can't swim back to Camelot of course, but she can certainly hide out until Arthur comes for her. And with the Mystical Orb she can now get a message across to him. She steps into the water in her tattered gown, closes both hands around the orb, and whispers an incantation.

xXx

_The Mark of Nemeth _

Arthur managed to find the thief, but Cedric regretfully informed the young king that he'd sold the magical map to a knight called Lancelot, the very knight who sent Cedric into the vaults to steal it. Arthur wanted to kill Cedric, and would have been well within his rights to, but he threw him in jail instead. _Back to the drawing board, how will I find my love, my queen, my Guinevere? _Arthur sighed in aggravation as he strummed his finger on the table in his room. _If this wasn't bad enough, now I have this situation with the kingdom of Nemeth as well. How do I tell King Rodor? How do I tell him…_

"Something wrong Arthur," Merlin questioned as he added the last pail of steaming hot water to Arthur's bath. _I know he isn't sulking over Gwen. He's made up his mind to travel to hell and back to save her, if that's what it takes. There's something else bothering him. _"Arthur."

Arthur snapped to attention and stammered, "No… nothing is wrong. Thank you."

Merlin gasped. The empty bucket fell from his hand with a clang as it hit the floor, "You just said thank you Arthur. Now I know for a fact something is wrong."

"If I told you, you would think I was crazy," Arthur said. "Hell I think I'm going crazy."

"What happened Arthur," Merlin urged.

After a long silence Arthur confessed, "I told Morgana that I chased down Lamia and took her merely to avoid my feelings for Gwen."

"Well isn't that true?"

Arthur shook his head no, "That's just the excuse I gave Morgana so that she would be more understanding of our father's actions, more likely to forgive him. The truth is I was a virgin before that incident in the hall. I had never used a woman to slake my lust before that night. I honestly find that sort of behavior revolting and unchivalrous."

Merlin's eyes grew as large as saucers. _Maybe I misjudged the arrogant prat. _

"Oh don't look so shocked Merlin," Arthur sneered.

"Oh... sorry um… If not for sake of being a philandering man-whore, why did you go after Lamia?" Merlin enquired, his dark brows furrowing in confusion.

"That's just it Merlin," Arthur said. "I don't know. It was as if I was being sucked into a tornado. I tried to fight it but I had no control over myself. And once it was over I could barely remember a thing. It was all a blur. The only reason I knew we… did it is because I saw her pulling up her under garments, and the mess I had made on the floor. Lamia she… did something to me Merlin…"

"It was a drunken act of lust Arthur," Merlin chuckled but soon stopped as Arthur gave him a stabbing glare. Merlin's expression grew as serious as Arthur's. "Are you thinking you were enchanted? Are you thinking Princess Lamia is a shade?"

"I'm thinking Princess Lamia is something all together different," Arthur admitted. "Once I've rescued Guinevere I must warn King Rodor the woman he believes is his daughter is an imposter."

"He'll never believe you Arthur," Merlin warned. "And you're not exactly on good terms after calling off the wedding to his daughter."

"She's not his daughter!"

"What makes you so certain of that?"

"Because I think I know his daughter," Arthur confessed vehemently. "Years ago Caesar took the first born children of all the Britain kings who stood against him. King Rodor thought he had lost his daughter forever, until an elusive woman approached claiming to be the lost Princess. They checked her shoulder and she bore the mark of Nemeth. She even had the same dark hair as his lost daughter and other similar features. King Rodor welcomed the woman we call Lamia with open arms. But while I was a slave in the Roman Coliseum I shared a cell with a girl not much older than I, a beautiful girl by the name of Mithian. She had been a slave girl in Caesar's palace but as she reached maturity Cenred and his guards began to request more than drinks from her. Mithian ferociously fended off their advances. She told Cenred she would rather die than lay for them. So he cut off her hair and cast her into the coliseum to fight with the men. She got injured one day and Gwen helped to mend the wound. That's when I noticed the strange mark on Mithian's shoulder. She told me she was born with it. We escaped shortly after, and boarded a merchant ship for Britain. I asked my friend to stay in Camelot, offered to make her a lady of the court. But she respectfully declined, partly because she yearned for a life of adventure aboard the ship, and partly because she was sweet on the captain."

"How old was Mithian when she was taken?" Merlin asked frantically. "Does she even know she may be the Princess?"

"That's just it," Arthur said. "Just recently I started to piece it all together. I told her everything. She refused to go home. She said being a Princess bore no more freedom than being a servant in Caesar's household, and she refused to trade one form of slavery for another."

Merlin sighed, "You must take her to her father Arthur. It's the right thing to do."

"The right thing for who Merlin," Arthur snapped. "Mithian is happy sailing the seas with her beloved Captain Leon. She loves adventure and she loves him. She'll lose them both if I reveal her identity."

"And King Rodor will lose his life if you don't," Merlin rebutted. "If Lamia is indeed an imposter she's probably just waiting for the right moment to strike and claim his throne. But Rodor will never believe Lamia isn't his real daughter unless you return the true Princess of Nemeth. I like Mithian as well, but her duties to her father and her kingdom outweigh her duties to herself. You should know that better than anyone." _I feel like such a hypocrite having fled my own crown, but I do not trust that Lamia to harbor such power over the people. Arthur is right. There's something wrong about her. _

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, "You're pretty wise for a man servant."

As Merlin tripped over the chamber pot Arthur immediately recanted his statement. The boy king shook his head with laugh and dismissed Merlin for the evening.

Arthur rose from his seat and made his way toward the tub. He pulled off his shirt and began to undo his pants as he heard his name echo throughout the chamber, "Arthur."

He whipped around, now convinced he'd lost his mind. I couldn't have possibly heard…

"Arthur…"

"Guinevere!" Arthur exclaimed as he saw her beautiful reflection in the bath water. He dropped to his knees and made himself face to face with the reflection. "Thank god you remembered how to use the orb."

"Not exactly," She admitted as she held up her arm to show the small cut.

"Guinevere!"

"It's just a scratch Arthur," She assured him. "I'm fine. I just forgot the first spell."

He laughed a little with the assurance that the cut was superficial. "We haven't time to waste." Arthur began to scramble about. "I'll get the others."

"Don't," She stopped him, "I have just minutes before the orb disappears and I don't want to share a second with anyone else. You can relay my message to them."

She pulled a map with glowing lines from the satchel she had stolen from Lancelot, and stretched it out over the waters so Arthur could see it. Arthur ran to collect a quill and a well of ink. Carefully recording the coordinates on a large piece of parchment, just praying the Isle of the Blessed doesn't move too much before he can reach her. Gwen gives him every piece of information she can think of that may be helpful while Arthur listens intently feverishly writing her every word, only stopping here and there for long enough to dip his feather. Once she's finished he rises to place the notes upon his table and then returns just to gaze upon her captivating reflection.

"Oh Guinevere I wish I could kiss you through the water. I never wanted to lay with Lamia. I believe she cast a spell on me. My heart has only ever loved you." Arthur confessed as he touched the image of her cheek.

"Lancelot made me do it with him by means of dark magic. My heart has only loved you Arthur," Her watery reflection rippled with his touch but he could still make out her incredible smile, that lovely smile that melted his mind to mush and rendered him stupid with happiness.

"I'm sorry for what I did with her," Arthur swore.

"Don't be, she trained you well," Gwen flirted.

"Guinevere," Arthur gasped in shock of her boldness but he quickly recovered. "She didn't train me half as well as Lance trained you."

She bit her lip with a smolder in her eyes, "You haven't begun to know how well I've been trained."

"Oooo is that a threat Guinevere," Arthur's heart pounded with anticipation as he wondered how a mere watery reflection of this woman could have him standing at attention.

"No Arthur, that was a promise," She blew a kiss to him which he caught and placed on his erection.

This time she gasped in shock, "Arthur!"

"I'm sorry. I was just jesting," He chuckled. _Unless you'll really do it. _He begins to envision her soft wet lips wrapped around his member and the vivid fantasy is enough to make him shudder. He blew a kiss back and grinned impishly as she slid up her gown to place it upon her womanhood.

Arthur took in short quick breaths, "Don't say it unless you mean it. There isn't a part of your beautiful body I wouldn't run my tongue over Guinevere."

"You're so nasty Arthur," She giggled.

"Yes but that is what you love about me."

"True," she mused envisioning his soft wet tongue exploring the intricate folds between her legs, and the dream of him pleasing her body is enough to make her shiver with delight.

But her eyes began to water as the orb grew smaller and smaller. It was nearly gone; their time together was soon to end. Only Arthur could make her forget for the briefest of moments about her predicament. He was her everything.

"Find me Arthur," Her voice faded as she began to disappear. "I love you."

"I love you too," It pained him to see her go. She was his everything. But Arthur vowed from the depths of his heart, "Guinevere I will always find you."


	16. The Cruelest Revenge

**Author's Note: This chapter has been whooping my ass for the past three weeks. So finally here we go :^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Cruelest Revenge

The morning dawn broke between the bars of Gwen's rolling cell. Lancelot, Cenred, and a handful of mercenaries had tracked her down with very little effort. She had no food, no supplies, and the cut on her arm was beginning to become infected. The travel weary men made camp for a while with their prisoner locked securely away. Some left to hunt rabbits and catch fish for breakfast while others went to guard the perimeter. Samhain's Eve was fast upon them and Nimueh had every intention of driving a dagger through Gwen's heart tomorrow night. The hired cutthroats had no clue as to the reign of hell that would be unleashed upon this realm.

Though recaptured Gwen at least had a full belly, a warm fire, and a well treated wound. Her arm didn't even hurt anymore. Nimueh had insisted they keep her sacrificial lamb healthy; for the witch could draw very little power from one with an unwell body and a broken spirit. An injured or dying sacrifice will release enough dorocha to sweep across Britain. But a healthy sacrifice with the spirit of Gwen, an element of Albion, will release enough dorocha to sweep across the world. And with Nimueh being the only one capable of controlling these vengeful murderous spirits, the world would bow at her feet.

Gwen crossed her arms over her scantily clad breasts. She didn't like the way Cenred gazed upon her thinly veiled body in the scattered light of the forest. His dark eyes were ravenous with lust as he drank up the vision of her tender youthful curves.

"So how is she," Cenred questioned Lancelot as they perched upon a fallen tree before the fire.

"Her arm is fine," Lancelot assured him as he poked at the popping embers with a stick, "Mistress Nimueh should be pleased."

"No… how is she," Cenred repeated

"Oh…" The wicked shade smiled longingly.

Gwen could see its filthy mind whirling with vivid recollections of things they'd done, things she had been forced to do. And as the knot began to rise in his trousers a wave of nausea washed over her so brutally it made her dizzy. Her diaphragm heaved and she obverted her eyes from the monster. Her body threatened to paint the cage with last night's dinner. She wanted no part of Lance especially that disgusting part of him that stole her innocence and made her his slave.

Cenred rose and Gwen fled to the opposite end of her cage. The tyrant casually made his way toward her with that arrogant swagger of his. Cenred stood before Gwen's cell, leaned his face between the heavy iron bars. His evil lips curved into a sinister grin as his hot breath steamed Guinevere's ear, "You are going to make a very pretty sacrifice."

Gwen smiled almost pleased with herself. _Little do they know I invited this recapture, welcomed a hot meal and medical treatment. I merely escaped in order to get word to Arthur, _"I won't make nearly as pretty a sacrifice as you Cenred. Arthur's going to run a sword through you and that's if you're blessed enough for Morgana not to find you first."

xXx

_Closure_

Arthur yearned to race full speed ahead to his Guinevere but Merlin advised him against it. Being ill prepared to faceoff with a powerful sorceress would only get him killed before he could rescue Gwen. Instead of rushing in with some half witted rescue attempt Arthur convened with Leon, a brilliant strategist navigator and ship captain, to find the best approach. Morgana had injured all of Arthur's best knights with the exception of Gwen's cousin Elyan. So Arthur had come to Ealdor to take command of his sister's soldiers. Arthur had insisted Morgana stay behind because neither of them was married with heirs. If he, Morgana, and Gwen should all perish the kingdoms would fall to civil war.

Lady Morgause gasped and dropped the vase of flowers. It shattered on the floor in a pile of wet pottery shards and broken roses, "Your majesty!"

"That bad," Morgana chuckled.

The other maids stood in utter shock of the beautiful pink gown Morgana was wearing. She looked positively radiant. Her hair was swept up in an elegant do, bedazzled with jewels and fancy clips. She'd worn nothing but widow's black since the day she laid her father to rest. This was the reason people first began to call her the Dark Queen.

"What's happened to you," Morgause asked, her lovely face drawn with concern for her sovereign. "This is Arthur's doing! You should have killed him when he was a child! What has he done?"

"Nothing," Morgana swore. "I just felt like wearing a splash of color to see my men off to war."

Morgause swept a waist length golden tress behind her ear, "Is this about that sailor?"

"I am meeting him briefly," Morgana confessed. "But it's not what you think. He helped me when no one else would and the least I can do is give his broken heart some closure. He has mourned Cinderella for so long and doesn't even know where to look for her body."

"So what if he mourns!" Morgause snapped. "You are besotted Queen Morgana! Stay away from him."

"Besotted or not… I owe him," Morgana didn't even deny her fancy.

Morgause's mind didn't know how to register the Queen's words. They were just that out of character. "GET OUT!" Morgause yelled at the maids to leave. She even smacked one who was taking too long. She shoved them all out before rumors began to circulate that would ruin Morgana's reputation, and prevent a long sought after union with King Odin's son. _I am so tired of cleaning up her messes!_ "Milady you have been through much but you must remember…"

"I know my duties to the crown Morgause," The Queen interjected. "I will marry Valiant as soon as my ward is safe. Taking five minutes to show Percival the woman he loves is not going to change anything. I'm merely giving a good man the closure he has long searched for and justly deserves. He's earned so much more than that."

Not long later Morgana watched from afar gathering her nerve as Percival scanned each of the tombstones in the rolling green hills of Camelot Cemetery oblivious to her presence. He was on a mission, for he and the knights were soon to ship out for battle and he could not go to his death without ever having visited her grave.

Percival strolled regally through the peaceful cemetery continuing to read the headstones. He was clad in chainmail and cloaked in Camelot red as his fiery cape whipped gently in the breeze. Morgana noticed that his was the only chainmail without sleeves, leaving bare arms the size of canons and she found herself envying the clothing that was blessed to touch his body. Percival made a beautiful knight, a life he seemed born to lead; and for the first time Morgana Pendragon considered the possibility that perhaps true nobility is earned and not just inherited. And if that were the case then maybe she'd put the right man on Camelot's throne after all.

Percival didn't know his lover's true name but he narrowed the search by looking for women between ages thirteen and twenty-one who died in the first siege of Ealdor. So far he found four possibilities and ruled out all four of them as their tombs stones read 'Loving mother and wife'. _I suppose she could have been married. That would explain all the secrecy. But I know in my heart she was a maiden, just by the sheer shock on her face when I broke her. What an idiot I was._

"Good day Sir Percival," Morgana said trying to sound casual but the mere gaze of his twinkle blue eyes made her heart fall into her stomach.

"Milady," He greeted ceremoniously and she could tell he was still cross with her. "You lied to me."

"I lie to everyone. What makes you special," She jested and he could not stop the somber look on his face from melting into a small grin. And with just one of his charming heart stopping smiles she nearly forgot what she had come here for.

"It isn't funny your majesty," He said as serious as he could but no matter what she did he couldn't harbor anger and it didn't help that she looked phenomenal today. "You looked me right in the face and swore you wouldn't do anything dangerous, and then you almost died."

"But I didn't die," Morgana reminded the gentle giant. "And even if I had what care is it of yours?"

_She's right, _He chastised himself. _I have no right to care for her as I do and this is probably her way of warning me to back off. I'm on thin ice and its cracking beneath my boots. _He dodged the answer to a question that could land him in the stocks or even the gallows. There was no possible way she could feel the same way and such a bold confession on his part would serve no one any good. He changed the subject, "I am most pleased and honored by your majesty's presence, but I beg milady has not come here merely to insult me for my love of Cinderella."

"No," Morgana said right away. "I've come to help you find your Cinderella. You're in the wrong place Percival. This is where the commoners are buried."

"She was a commoner," He insisted.

"No she wasn't," Morgana said. "That girl was more afraid to lose her mask than her virginity. Its obvious you were bedding a noble."

A look of pride lit Percival's face and he grinned from ear to ear.

"Oh don't look so pleased with yourself," Morgana sneered with a roll of her eyes. She bit her bottom lip looking him over as if he was a tasty morsel and before she could stop herself the words came flying his way, "Why is yours the only chainmail without sleeves?" _Am I flirting?! Stop flirting!_

_Is she flirting? Nah… _"I'm so great in stature the blacksmith ran out of links," Percival admitted honestly with a laugh at himself. "Kilgharrah's going to finish it when… if I return."

Morgana looked horrified. She shudder at the thought of him being killed, "Don't talk like that. Besides, your chainmail looks better this way." _Am I flirting again?! _

_Alright she was definitely flirting that time. _The rather large man blushed shyly. "If it pleases milady I will lose an arm in battle before I ever have my chainmail finished. And you are soooo beautiful, if it isn't too bold of me to say."

_What is it about this man that makes me giddy? _She could feel her own cheeks growing red and she nervously swept a loose tendril of raven hair behind her ear. _That was entirely too bold of him to say but I opened the door, can't fault him for walking through it. _She decided to switch back to the matter at hand before things got really inappropriate, "Meet me in the royal tombs at dusk. That's where she'll be."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hands were shaking at the very thought of finding Cinderella, at a chance of discovering a place to go and remember her and pay his respects, "Your majesty." He said almost in tears. "I know a queen's time is precious. If you would only have your guards allow me into the catacomb I would be forever in your debt. You needn't waste another moment on the likes of me."

_Oh Gods… A moment with you is never a moment wasted Percival. _Her hand cupped his cheek and he nearly melted into a puddle at her touch.

"It's the least I can do," She whispered nearly losing her breath at the warmth of his skin, the prickle of his stubble beneath the sensitive flesh of her palm. She reluctantly withdrew her hand and her warmth and she could have sworn she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes.

He quickly recovered, a gentle smile warming his handsome face, "Thank you." He bowed low to place a kiss upon her knuckles that put a flutter in her chest. He rose and met her eyes once more. She yearned to live forever right here in his eyes and knew that loving him was just not an option. She could never give herself to a sailor but at least she could give him closure...

xXx

_The Cruelest Revenge_

Cenred laughed with amusement at Gwen, "You honestly think Morgana Pendragon will risk war with Rome to rescue a ward she threatened at knife point."

"We were sisters before we were enemies," Gwen reminded him vehemently. "And she will save me! And then I will save her."

Cenred wasn't listening to a word she said as his finger gingerly traced the delicate line of her collar bone. She snatched his finger. Bent it back. He released a wail of agony.

"You will mind your hands or I will mind them for you!" Gwen screamed.

Lancelot yelled at the thugs who came running up, "Return to your posts! I've got this!"

"Let him go Gwen," Lancelot bellowed with an aimed crossbow but it took a lot to intimidate the ward of a witch. "I will not allow you to harm my mistress' son! Let him go or I will plant a bolt in your stubborn heart!"

A furious heaving Gwen released her captor.

"She has fight," Cenred chuckled rubbing his swore hand.

Lancelot glared at the girl who'd caused him on more than one occasion to let his mistress down. Bitter burning hatred engulfed him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. _Why couldn't you just marry me?! Why couldn't you just stay away from Arthur?! _

He despised this unrelenting wench whose stubborn spirit proved stronger than magic, whose unwavering love for another became more powerful than his enchantment. Lance wanted, needed to punish this shrew and he knew just how to do it. This would be the cruelest revenge.

The shade turned to Cenred, "I don't believe I ever answered your question milord. She's fantastic in the sack. I trained her well."

Cenred tissed, "It's too bad a rape would break her spirit. Mother will kill me if I ravish Gwen."

One corner of Lancelot's mouth rose in a thoughtful smirk, "I won't tell if you won't."

Gwen's eyes grew as round as saucers. Her heart pounded like a sledge hammer. And her blood turned to ice as Lance tossed the lecherous emperor the keys to her cell and walked away.

The shade called to Cenred over his shoulder, "I'll give you two some privacy and when you're finished. I'll have my turn."


	17. Voices of Evil

Voices of Evil

Lancelot had sent the mercenaries far away from their temporary camp. He couldn't take a chance on any of them reporting to Nimueh what Cenred was doing to Gwen, what the shade was soon to do to her himself. As Gwen's screams of pain and anguish gradually lowered to whimpering and sniffling Lance assumed that Cenred was finished and at last it was his turn. The Shade returned to camp to find her lying in a broken half dressed huddle on the ground.

Cenred fastened the straps of his leather shirt, "You were right she was incredible."

The shade grinned, "I suppose it my turn now." Lance kneeled before Gwen undoing the laces of his trousers and she reeled in horror at his touch.

Gwen looked over Lancelot's shoulder and mouthed a single word to Cenred, "Now."

All Lancelot felt was Cenred's blade stabbing into his back. Before the shade could register what happened, Cenred and Gwen had locked Lancelot in the rolling cart. Lancelot slowly pulled the blade from the tender flesh of his kidney as he wailed in agony. This proved an even greater mistake. Removing the embedded object only caused him to bleed worse.

"BBBut how," The hemorrhaging demon managed to squeal from his quivering lips.

Gwen sauntered up to his cage. She was perfectly unharmed. "I was faking Lancelot. I had loads of practice courting you."

She could hear Cenred snickering in the background at her insult to the shade's manhood. Cenred and Gwen hastily collected as many supplies as they could from the camp.

Cenred apologized, "Sorry I had to frighten you and threaten your virtue milady, but it was the only way I could get the keys to your cell and convince him to send the mercenaries away."

"Thank you," Gwen cried abandoning royal etiquette to hug the Roman Emperor. "I understand your deception. Shades have superhuman strength. Lancelot's knife wound is likely closing as we speak."

Cenred admitted humbly and honestly, "I'm a damn fine swordsman but that thing would have slaughtered me if I faced him head on."

"And that would have left me defenseless against him," Gwen said. "I can't thank you enough."

"Don't thank me yet," Cenred laughed. "I cannot get you off this island my dear."

"But you have bought Arthur enough time to save us," Gwen assured him. "How did you know Nimeuh was up to something milord?"

"You're not the only one with an orb," Cenred grinned as they made their way into the woods.

"Morgana," Gwen murmured with a smile.

He nodded, "Queen Morgana used her orb to contact me the moment she witnessed a tropical storm on Britain soil. She warned me to keep my eyes open for anything suspicious and low and behold my physician was acting funny."

"Well that explains why she never used her orb to escape imprisonment in Arthur's tower," Gwen said. "She had already exhausted its power."

Cenred nodded, "I pretended to be my old self so mother would take me along for the ride. I only pray mother has not killed Gaius and that I will find him soon. Without my remedies I've begun to hear my voices again." _How long will it take before the Voices of Evil consume me? I will take my own life before I ever allow the General to bring back his reign of hell…_


	18. Prince Charming

Prince Charming

It was barely noon and it was as if time was crawling at a snail's pace. In order to pass the time until he met with Morgana Percival walked along with a small tour group. A rather staunch young courtier rambled on about the historical sites while Percival mindlessly put one foot in front of the other half listening.

"Now for my favorite part of the tour: the ancient dungeons of Ealdor," The guide announced theatrically, "Rumor has it, they're haunted."

"Oooo," Cried ecstatic children in the crowd.

The guide ceased before a filthy cell with chains hanging from its walls and a pile of human bones in the corner. "Behold the very dungeon cell that once imprisoned Queen Morgana and Lady Guinevere."

At that Percival looked up and glanced around the prison. There was very little accommodation, just a petrified apple core and a dust covered shoe: relics from the first siege of Ealdor. He sighed, _Morgana survived hell itself. No wonder she is the way she is._

After the oooos and ahhhs calmed down the tour guide added. "This was also the last place King Uther was seen alive, the very place he was executed. And rumor has it his un resting spirit still haunts these very walls."

xXx

_I Like Him Not_

Later in the afternoon Arthur watched the knights sparring in the practice field from an upstairs window of Morgana's castle. The young king scratched his itchy wrists. He feverishly picked the dead skin as he contemplated the speech he would give his men. _What does one say to men he cannot promise will see their wives and children again? _

"Stop scratching. That only makes it worse."

Arthur whipped around to find his sister.

"Morgana! You're wearing pink!" Arthur exclaimed.

She gave him a twirl and a bright smile, "Your majesty."

He drew her into an ecstatic embrace. He pulled her out at arm's length just to take another look before pulling her into a hug once more. The evil in her was dying little by little and he had his suspicions as to why. "Would this new look have anything to do with a certain knight the size of an oak tree?"

"Don't be ridiculous Arthur," Morgana snapped and looked away before he could read her lying face, "Why can't I run a brush through my hair and wear a lighter color without an inquisition?"

"This is by no means an inquisition," Arthur lifted his hands in a playful surrender. "I'm just wondering if you're marrying the right man."

_Here we go again, _She rolled her large green eyes. "Who are you to judge my choice of husband?"

"Your brother, that's who," Arthur rebutted sternly. "This Valiant fellow, I like him not."

Morgana gasped, "You barely know him Arthur!"

"I like him not!" Arthur repeated without relenting one bit. "He's a two faced dog who cheats at tournaments. He brought a magic shield with snakes painted on it. The serpents came to life as I competed with him. One sank its venomous fangs into my neck and nearly killed me. And I was fortunate. Two other knights had died while competing against him."

Morgana shook her head, "We need this alliance with Odin's kingdom and you know it. Now is not the time to hold petty grudges over lost tournament fights!"

"It isn't just about me Morgana," Arthur explained. "Is it so wrong that I feel you should marry the man who makes you smile, and laugh, and wear pink?"

Morgana huffed, "You're being partial to Percival because he's your friend."

"I'm being partial to Percival because he's your friend; at one point the only one you had," Arthur snapped. "Whether Valiant sees me as Camelot's legitimate king or not, that does not change the fact that I AM your brother and therefore the man responsible for you, and Valiant did not ask me for your hand. So you can tell your precious prince that he will withdraw this engagement or consider it an invitation for war."

Morgana drew no breath. She could tell her brother was serious, and now that Arthur had gained control of her armies the boy king could and would very well ride on her fiancée's kingdom. She wanted to scream at Arthur and scold him for his stupidity and stubbornness; but flying off at the mouth would only further infuriate her brother and as a result get her betrothed run through with a sword. She could not deny that the boy king had Pendragon blood coursing through his veins and like their father Arthur's temper sometimes got the best of him. _Oh Gods what would Guinevere do?! _Morgana reached deep within searching her soul for a quality the Pendragons rarely possessed, a remarkable quality she found in Guinevere more so than anyone: Humility.

Morgana took a lesson from her ward and dipped into a deep curtsey. She took Arthur's hand and humbly kissed his ring of nobility, a ring that once belonged to their father, "King Arthur, milord I implore thee to give my betrothed a fair chance. Get to know him brother. I respectfully remind your grace that you slew King Odin's favorite son in a duel and now we desperately need this alliance; a marriage to wash away the bad blood between two families."

Arthur let out a long exasperated breath knowing full well she was right._ I like him not! He's a bad influence on my two-spirited sister. However if Morgana can show humility so can I. _"I'll give him a chance," Arthur said grudgingly as he pulled her up to her full height.

"That's all I ask," Morgana smiled happily feeling relieved to have successfully avoided a war. She noticed the clamminess of her brother's hands as he helped her up, "Nervous about making your first war speech?"

"Don't be ridiculous Morgana," Arthur snapped and looked away before she could read his lying face. _We ship out in a little over an hour and I haven't a bloody clue what to say._

"Well you haven't anything to worry about," She swore, seeing right through his lies. "I will be there to see you off. And I'll be standing at your side as you address the knights."

_Thank god._ He felt an enormous weight lift from his shoulders."Do you promise you will be there?" Arthur said with an outstretched fist.

"I swear," Morgana bumped her knuckles with his. "Go get your Queen, brother."

"We leave in an hour. Where are you going?" Arthur grinned.

"I just have something to take care of first," Morgana assured him, and made her way to the catacombs.

While Arthur physically, mentally, and emotionally prepared for the greatest battle of his life, Morgana leaned back against the cool stone walls of the torch lit royal tomb. It lay deep within the bowels of her palace. Solid stone platforms bore the sarcophaguses of the kings, queens, knights and ladies of Ealdor's past including her father. Arthur and the knights would be shipping out in an hour and she could only pray that Cenred had kept his word and was indeed looking after her ward. That's all Morgana could do for now was worry and pray for Gwen, Arthur, and their knights. _Gwen will be fine. Arthur and the knights will see to that. _She chastised herself and replaced her dark thoughts with positive ones.

Morgana had come here to help Percival; help him find closure. And extending an invitation to this dreary, dank, place of eternal rest was the only way she could.

_ I want him to have peace even if I never will. My life has been so full of lies and betrayal and deceit I doubt I'll ever have a moment's serenity like the one I found in Percival's eyes today. _

She slid down the wall until she reached the floor and sat on the cold stones waiting for the sailor turned knight who had etched his face upon her soul; and reflecting on her troubled past...

xXx

_Nine Years Ago…_

Lyres and lutes and piccolos played as courtiers danced ceremoniously to the whimsical music. Uther Pendragon sat at the table next to a daughter who had been shooting him daggers and giving him one word answers all evening.

Uther leaned over and whispered to his long time ally King Godwin, "Something has been troubling my daughter since she returned from visiting her godfather Thomas' grave with Gwen. I can only hope she didn't find out."

Godwin sighed. The old King shook his head at his naïve friend, "She's a woman now. Maybe its time you told her the truth."

"She'll never understand my actions or the reasons for them."

"You do not give her enough credit," Godwin smirked, "Would it kill you to show a little humility if only to your daughter?"

The princess shot her father another evil look and Uther had had enough. He excused himself and took Morgana down the hall to give her a firm talking to.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Uther whisper-yelled at his only daughter.

"Do you think me an idiot?!" Screamed a raging fifteen year old Morgana as she stalked around the deserted throne room. "For years you denied the rumors about Arthur! Denied! Denied! DENIED! I saw him with my own two eyes. The bastard of that common woman looks just like you!"

"I am your father and your king you will show me some respect!" Uther bellowed, not accepting the disrespectful tone his daughter had taken with him. "Your behavior has been unacceptable this evening. You've embarrassed your sovereign, your kingdom, and yourself!"

"Of course, because I'm not allowed to feel anything even after I've been lied to all my life," Tears filled her eyes.

"You don't understand Morgana," Uther said quietly. "I was protecting your mother's honor."

"You were protecting yourself," Morgana took a deep breath and humbled her tone, "With all due respect sire how could you disown your own son? How could you allow him to live in poverty? Arthur is the son of a king! It isn't uncommon for a man to seek comfort in the arms of another after his wife dies. You did nothing wrong by lying with Ygraine after losing your wife. Your only crimes were disowning your son and robbing your daughter of a brother. Why didn't you just marry Ygraine? She's a commoner and it would take people a while to accept her, but she's kind with a beautiful heart. She would have been good for you and even better for our kingdom."

_Thank god she believes this happened after her mother's death. _He wanted needed to explain himself. But Uther had terrible pride and an even worse temper, "Insolent girl! You speak of what you do not understand! Now you will remember your place and leave my sight until twelve o'clock when I present you to your betrothed!"

"Betrothed!" She gasped. With that one horrifying word she forgot about Arthur, her father's lies, everything, "Do I even know him?!"

"Prince Valiant."

"Were you even going to discuss this with me?"

"I just did."

Morgana fumed and spoke bitterly through clenched teeth, "A discussion goes two ways father. Both parties listen and both parties have a say. This is the most important decision of my life and we aren't discussing it. You've merely issued me an order. I am not one of your soldiers."

Morgana stormed off and Uther kicked himself for ruining things again. Uther sat at a long wooden table in solitude missing his own party. He tapped his fingers on the wood as he brooded over his actions.

"You didn't tell her did you," King Godwin's voice echoed throughout the dark empty chamber as he entered and made his way toward Uther.

Uther sighed and shook his head no, "My pride got the better of me."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well at least Morgana believes Arthur was conceived after her mother died and that I've hidden him for no reason. Ygraine must have shaved a year off the boy's age when Morgana confronted her."

"I see," Godwin nodded.

Uther looked down at the floor, "How could I explain to my fifteen year old daughter whom I love more than anyone that I was not whoring around. Helen begged me to lay with Ygraine."

Godwin's bushy gray eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why on earth would a wife do that?"

Uther drew a long deep breath and exhaled slowly. "When Helen was pregnant with Morgana she woke up screaming from a terrible nightmare. Helen told me she saw our daughter's execution; that Morgana would perish long before her years. Helen had never possessed special powers and she was no prophet or seer so I told my wife it was just a bad dream. But she was so concerned for our unborn baby that she traveled to see three soothsayers called the Disir to make sure. These women of magic told Helen that she was not a seer but the child she carried within her womb was. The baby's prophecies were being projected into the mind of her mother. And only one person could prevent this terrible future."

"Who," Godwin questioned.

"The Disir told Helen we had ten years from the day to conceive a son who would be his sister's savior; a boy called Arthur," Uther confessed. "I didn't believe any of this superstitious nonsense, especially the part about my baby having magic, but to put my wife's mind at ease I tried year after year to conceive a second child with her. We were unsuccessful: two miscarriages followed by a drought of no pregnancies at all. When my daughter was around nine my wife's health began to fail. The midwife told us a pregnancy would kill Helen long before she gave birth. The tenth year was rapidly approaching and out of desperation and love for our daughter Helen asked her best friend and maid to conceive my son. And out of love for her dying best friend Ygraine agreed to the peculiar request. I told Helen that I loved her, that I could never lay with another as long as there was breath in her body, but she begged me and she cried and I could not resist her tears. Helen swore things would be alright, that Ygraine had agreed to carry the child in secret while Helen pretended to be pregnant; and then my wife and I would claim Arthur as our own after he was born. No one ever had to know I had lain with another." Uther shut his eyes to pinch back his tears.

Godwin let out a long deep breath already able to figure out exactly what went wrong, "Helen died four months before Arthur was born and therefore couldn't claim him."

"I would have been seen as the devil for cheating on a dying wife though I was only doing it because my wife asked me to," Uther explained. "Ygraine would have been seen as a traitorous whore for laying with the husband of her dying best friend though she did this out of love for her best friend. I was grieving and mourning the love of my life and I was confused and I didn't want to disgrace Helen's memory with a scandal."

"So you banished Ygraine to the western borders and disowned Arthur to protect your wife's honor. You didn't want to lose the love of your daughter some day," Godwin interjected. "You have to tell Morgana everything you told me."

"Tell her what?!" Uther snapped. "That her father conceived a bastard with her mother's maid during a series of alcohol induced threesomes!"

Godwin's eyes grew large. He grinned with amusement, "Uther no…"

"Yes" Uther laughed, his anger and frustration subsiding with the erotic memories. "Helen told me I had to lay with her friend and swore she would be alright with it but I knew my wife better than anyone. It was going to break her heart. The first night I fled Ygraine's chamber. I was unable to go through with it. I ran into the arms of my sobbing wife. I began to kiss Helen, and touch her, and seduce her like I'd never done before; until her tears ceased to flow and all she cared about was how incredible I was making her feel. We hadn't even noticed that Ygraine had followed me or how long the maid had been standing there. Helen, drunk on passion and wine, beckoned to her friend and pulled off the woman's gown right in front of me. Helen looked at me so lustfully and told me to touch Ygraine's body, and Ygraine had the very same smolder in her eyes. And at last I found myself able to, because I knew that Helen was curious to see and it was what both beautiful women wanted."

"You lucky bastard," King Godwin jested, his expression somewhere between amused and envious.

"Yes," Uther smugly admitted as his mind whirled with wanton images of the steamy nights he had with his wife and her maid and then his smile faded as he said. "But how does one tell his precious daughter about such things."

"Because he has to," Godwin gave Uther a supportive slap on the shoulder.

"How will I ever fix this mess? I'm sure Arthur must hate me by now."

"Your son is very young," Godwin assured him. "You have the rest of your life to make it up to him. As long as you travel the road to redemption Arthur will meet you at the crossing."

The two of them returned to the party with Uther's mind made up that he would tell his daughter the truth first thing in the morning. _I pray my daughter will not judge my wife, myself, and our friend Ygraine for the desperate acts we committed merely out of love and protection for our child. I will tell Morgana everything at first morning's light and bring Arthur and Ygraine to the palace where they belong. And if Ygraine will have me I'm going to take my daughter's advice and marry her. Morgana is right. This kingdom needs a heart as kind and loyal as Ygraine's. I only pray Morgana understands that all I've ever done was for her. _

Uther was entirely unaware that he would be captured and killed before he ever got the chance to travel the road to redemption, before he ever got to tell Morgana and Arthur the whole story…

Up two flights of stairs and down a long corridor the true and noble Lancelot shook his head at his friend, "I don't like this."

"Father's forcing me to wed!" Morgana said in her own defense. "I just want one night to be looked upon by a man with passion and desire. One night to have what you'll have for the rest of your life with my cousin Morgause."

"Does Valiant not look upon you in such a manner," Morgause asked with concern.

Morgana shook her head no, "Valiant looks upon me with the respect owed to a lady of my standing. He looks upon me with a sense of duty and obligation, but he does not desire me." Morgana looked back and forth between Lancelot and Morgause. The princess' eyes were pleading, desperate. "Please aid me in just one night of freedom."

"If Uther comes looking for you it will be my head on the chopping block!" Morgause snapped. "You better be back by the stroke of midnight."

Morgana jumped for joy. She was positively elated, "Thank you cousin."

Lancelot assured Morgause, "I'll get her out of the palace undetected."

"Thank you Lance," Morgana swore from the bottom of her heart.

Morgause reluctantly walked over and braided a thin lock of her own hair with Morgana's, "Aqualitium transfertatium octuse."

Morgana's raven hair was now the silvery blonde of her cousin's tresses. Morgause unbraided their joined hair and with a second enchantment she changed the royal purple of Morgana's gown to a dazzling powder blue. Morgause retrieved a sparkling white masquerade mask from her drawer which Morgana carefully donned.

Morgana slipped on her glass shoes and turned to her best friend Lancelot and her cousin Morgause. The princess gave them a small twirl and asked almost shyly, "How do I look?"

They smiled thoughtfully and answered in unison, "Like Cinderella..."

xXx

_The Catacomb_

Morgana shook away those hard memories with tears in her eyes. She leaned back against the cool walls of the royal tomb not knowing what to say to Percival, or Prince Charming, as she called him on the night he stole her heart and her innocence. So she pulled a letter from her bosom that she wrote in case she couldn't find the words.

_Prince Charming,_

_Cinderella is very much alive. I only invited you to the catacombs because it's the only place acceptable for us to be alone. You assumed I was dead because no normal human being could have possibly sustained such an attack and survived. But you did not know that I wasn't normal, that I was a being of magic. I got furious when you told me that story because if I'd been there to save my father rather than giving myself to a total stranger none of this would have ever happened. I donned binding bracelets just before you and I started to kiss. I didn't want to injure or kill you on accident. But I could not unlock them in time and those bracelets left me unable to defend myself, my father, and my kingdom. I know I'm risking my reputation and more by telling you the truth, but I cannot watch you hurt for the rest of your life for a woman who is not dead._

_Love Always,_

_Cinderella_

Morgana folded the letter back up at the sound of approaching footsteps. She couldn't be with him but she could at least heal his grieving heart. _All these years I thought my father died because I was losing my virginity to some hormone driven idiot who never thought of me a moment after. And then I find out he's loved and mourned my loss for nearly a decade. _Her heart leapt at the jingle of his chainmail. As his shadow bent the corner she rose with total happiness in her soul, "Percival."

But it was just Morgause dressed in knight's armor, "I'm sorry Queen Morgana but he's found Cinderella."

"That's impossible!" Morgana screamed and snatched his letter from Morgause.

Morgana's eyes scanned the parchment quickly as she stormed out of the catacombs. His note thanked her for her time and promised to trouble her for no more of it. He had found Cinderella, she was alive and the two would wed right away.

Morgana stormed out on the grass under a pink and purple sky. She walked briskly toward the harbor with tears pouring down her face. She flung them off with her hands. Flowers began to spring from the soil with every tear that hit the ground and she left a floral trail as she fled the palace courtyard.

Morgause nearly had to run to keep up with her, "What are you going to do, your majesty?"

Morgana stopped with her breath heaving, her face shiny with tears, "I'm going to see my brother off to war. I promised Arthur I would be there for him. But when I return I'm going to find this imposter, rip out her entrails and feed them to the dogs!"

"That's what I figured," Morgause said. She unsheathed her sword. Struck Morgana forcefully with the hilt of it. Morgana collapsed without so much as a groan of pain. Morgause released a high-pitched whistled.

Aredian sauntered over from behind a row of hedges and shackled the unconscious queen, "You've done your kingdom as well as the world a great favor Lady Morgause, or shall I say queen."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Morgause grinned wickedly. "There's still Arthur and Gwen I have to deal with."

"What made you finally give her up?" Aredian questioned.

Morgause spoke bitterly, scornfully, "I have devoted my life to keeping Morgana on her throne and she repays my loyalty and sacrifice by getting my fiancée killed and replaced with a shade! She ordered Lancelot to protect Arthur with his life and that's exactly what he did! I have never left Morgana's side and she shows her appreciation by naming Gwen her heir over me! Gwen isn't even her blood relative! Despite my warning her against it she signed over half her kingdom to Arthur! And now she's risking a powerful alliance by carrying on with a sailor! I've done everything to see to it she has the life of a queen and she's done everything to throw that life away. The Council of Kings can have her."

xXx

Arthur paced anxiously on deck as his men looked to him for courage, bravery, and inspiration. "It's about time." he called as his sister's lady in waiting boarded. "Where's Morgana?"

"Your majesty." Morgause greeted humbly. "An urgent matter has called the queen away. She sent me in her stead."

Arthur sighed, his face somewhere between extreme anger and profound hurt, _I was a fool to ever believe Morgana could be decent to me, an idiot to believe she'd ever love me._ "She promised to see me off and then sends her lady."

"This isn't just any lady milord," Percival smiled brightly as he approached and kissed her tenderly. "Lady Morgause is my Cinderella. The captain is going to marry us."

Morgause smiled please with herself._ As Queen Morgana can't marry this knight, but as a lady of the court I can. And once I assume the throne no one will be able to protest a marriage I attained prior to my crowing._

"Congratulations," Arthur tried to sound as happy as possible but Merlin could see right through it.

"Arthur," Merlin called after him.

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't care Merlin. It isn't a big deal."

"Arthur you don't have to do that with me," Merlin pulled him aside, "I can tell you're upset, and for good reason. But maybe your sister really did have an urgent matter."

"Or maybe she's still the same selfish vindictive bitch who tried to have me killed," Arthur rebutted.

Merlin looked down at the planks of the busy ship knowing Arthur was probably right, "For what its worth I'm here for you. Your knights are waiting. You'll do great."

Arthur smiled with a whole new confidence in himself, "You know Merlin, you're not as stupid as you look."

While the king's sister lay destined for the counsel of kings and a swift and brutal execution, Arthur made his glorious speech and set sail for the Isle of the Blessed accompanied by a witch intent upon stealing his throne, a wicked sorceress determined to take the lives of both him and his heart's one true desire, Guinevere…


	19. The United Kingdom

The United Kingdom

The battleship tilled through deep blue waves as the setting sun spilled a million sparkles over the sea and soon darkness fell like a cool velvet blanket. A starry sky stretched overhead as a salty ocean breeze whirled throughout the cavernous vessel. Merlin pulled Arthur aside and began confessing his secrets as the two of them gazed up at a black heaven glowing with twinkling stars and a silvery moon. With the fate of Albion and the survival of mankind at stake the sorcerer could no longer afford to remain silent. If Nimueh was indeed the goddess of discord Merlin would have to throw everything he had at her. He would not be able to hold back for sake of being inconspicuous. He would not be able to hold back on account of her being his grandmother. Merlin was shocked Arthur wasn't taking the news badly.

Arthur chuckled hysterically and gave Merlin a hearty slap on the back, "A good laugh was just what I needed Merlin. You being Emrys is almost as laughable as you being the 'Prince of Rome'."

"I am the Prince of Rome you arrogant prat!" Snapped a rather perturbed Merlin.

"If you're the Prince of Rome then I'm the prince of frogs. We better get Guinevere right away so she can kiss me and transform me to a man." Arthur's sides ached. He wheezed when he ran out of air from laughing. "You really must stay out of the tavern Merlin."

"Don't say I didn't try to tell you," Merlin threw up his hands and walked away still being taunted by Arthur's laughter and mean spirited jokes.

With Merlin's absence the gravity of things once more crushed Arthur like a ton of bricks. The young king stood alone at the bow of the vessel missing his fiancée terribly. He kissed the ring from his beloved and tucked the trinket into his tunic to keep it close to his heart. _I will do whatever it takes to find you Guinevere. I made a promise and unlike Morgana I keep my promises. _

Passing thoughts of Morgana caused Arthur to grit his teeth bitterly. _How could I have been so stupid? Why did I allow myself to trust the witch again? _He picked up the wooden box at his feet and gripped it. The case was approximately a square foot in size, intricately engraved with markings of the old religion. _Should I even open it? It came from my sister. It's probably a trap. _Arthur spun around and launched the box Olympian style. It went sailing over the ocean.

"Arthur!" Merlin yelled with an outstretched hand.

Arthur's eyes bulged. His breath caught in his throat as Merlin used his magic to suspend the box in mid air. Merlin saved it before it splashed into the ocean and was lost forever. Until this moment Arthur didn't believe his bumbling servant could possibly be some great warlock of legend.

"MMMMerlin," Arthur stammered in utter disbelief. "You… you have magic."

"Yes Arthur. I already told you that," Merlin telepathically drew the box into his hands. "While we're on the subject of things I've already told you, Morgana gave me this box for YOU."

"Which is the very reason I don't trust it," Arthur snapped.

Merlin sighed and shook his head, "Queen Morgana has thought of nothing but avenging her father for nearly a decade. If anyone knows the key to defeating Nimueh its your sister, and you're going to need that box to do it."

"What if we're wrong in trusting a witch who wouldn't even see her own brother off to war? Why should we believe anything she says?"

"Morgana is by no means perfect, hell she's not even nice, and she sort of… gives me the creeps, but even a broken clock is right twice a day Arthur," Merlin handed the mahogany case to his friend with a sincere and reassuring glance, and then he left Arthur to his thoughts.

Arthur balanced the box on the rail and traced his fingers along the meticulously carved symbols of the smooth dark wood. The young king thoughtfully gazed into the night. _This chest will either kill me or save us all. Either way I will soon know which..._

xXx

_Aithusa_

Oil lanterns illuminated the vast ship as Freya, Vivian, Mithian and other women prepared bandages, beds, and medicines for the inevitable casualties of war. Arthur insisted the women stay home but Mithian informed him that the ship was her home and the crew her brothers in arms. Vivian and Freya swore they would rather come and help in any way they could than sit at home chewing their fingernails off waiting for husbands who might never return.

Below deck in a cargo room full of barrels and weaponry Sir Mordred, Sir Alvarr, and Sir Julius helped one another with their armor. The hefty metals of their battle suits were a gleaming black with charcoal colored capes that bore the silver seal of Ealdor. Though they detested King Arthur and everything about Camelot they volunteered for the voyage out of obedience to Morgana and for sake of their own agenda. Sir Julius had heard rumors of a dragon on the Isle of the blessed. With Mordred and Alvarr's aide he hoped to bring it home safely to Ealdor, the only place where creatures of magic were welcome. The only place where they themselves were welcome, due to all three of them having magic.

Alvarr, Mordred, and Julius would crawl through the fiery depths of the underworld and face Hades himself if Morgana wished it because she accepted them and encouraged them to embrace their magic. Though born of nobility like most knights Sir Alvarr, Sir Mordred, and Sir Julius were shunned by the other kingdoms and forbidden to compete at tournament because they practiced magic openly. Other kingdoms naturally assumed they would use their gifts to cheat at competitions.

Alvarr's face twisted into a grimace, "I think its horse shit that we were born of nobility and are not allowed to compete at tournament."

"Meanwhile Morgana's common born bastard brother is more than welcome to compete," Mordred growled.

Julius shook his head with a perturbed look, "I heard two of Arthur's knights were little more than bloody sailors! And another of his 'knights', and I use that term loosely, was merely a smuggler he sprung from his own prison."

"And yet this common criminal will have the honor of competing and we will not!" Screamed Mordred as he gripped his mop of raven curls.

Alvarr ran an agitated hand through his chin length sandy brown hair, "All I know is I am punching out the first pretend knight that says the wrong thing to me."

xXx

_The United Kingdom_

Captain Leon brought the cool metal telescope down from his eye as the Isle of the blessed honed into view. He passed the tool to Arthur and informed him. "We'll be on them within the hour."

"Excellent work Sir Leon," Arthur answered as he took a glimpse through the worn scope.

Arthur passed the instrument on to his manservant whose florescent blue eyes were pleading for a peak of the fabled lands. Glorious monuments and temples glowing with torch fire and candlelight nearly encompassed the entire island. The lush green isle with all of its beautiful architecture seemed more a sanctuary than a place for death and destruction. As their ship barreled through the sea inching closer to this magnificent shrine of the old religion it almost pained Merlin that they would have to wage war upon such an enchanting place.

The busy crew adjusted the sails, loaded the cannons, and prepared to weigh anchor. Merlin returned to the port side of the vessel. He kneeled with Kilgharrah and Alator chalking lines on the wooden planks of the deck as they plotted their magical strategies.

Arthur informed Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine, "Tell the knights to assist the sailors in preparing the weaponry."

"Yes sire," They answered in unison.

With Gwaine and Elyan at his side Percival approached the black armored knights of Ealdor and relayed the king's orders, "We must assist the sailors at once."

Mordred's icy blue eyes narrowed to slits as he looked Percival up and down with a glare of utter indignation. _The only thing worse than a despicable knight of Camelot thinking he can order me around is an illegitimate despicable knight of Camelot thinking he can order me around_, "We do not take orders from sailors."

"I beg your pardon," Gwaine snapped in Percival's defense. "This is a knight of Camelot and you will address him as such."

"It's alright Gwaine," Percival further reasoned with the men. "These are not my orders but that of King Arthur."

"Your bastard king is no more legitimate a noble than you are," Alvarr rebutted sternly.

"What's going on?" Tristan enquired as he came to see what all the fuss was about.

Gwaine and Elyan just stood there fuming while Percival answered, "These gentlemen, and I use that term loosely, don't feel they have to respect the king or his knights."

Julius scowled at the former smuggler Arthur now addressed as Sir Tristan, "One minute we're elevating common criminals to the status of noblemen and the next we'll be going to war to save a traitorous whore… But I guess we already are."

All Julius saw was Elyan's fist sailing in the direction of his face.

"FIGHT!" Arthur heard a gaggle of horrified women screaming.

Arthur whipped around. At least ten soldiers were tussling about. The men had traded insults and then punches and soon a full blown brawl was underway.

"Fight the enemy not each other!" Arthur scrambled with others to break up the fight. "We'll be at war within the hour and you're fighting each other!"

Kilgharrah breathed a fireball that made Percival and Alvarr leap apart at once. Merlin used his magic to subdue Mordred and Tristan. Arthur used his strength to rip Julius and Elyan away from each other. While Alator used enchantments to get Gwaine away from the two soldiers he was fighting.

"All is lost if we cannot come together!" Arthur yelled as even more knights of opposing kingdoms continued to rip at each other. _Oh God what would Guinevere do?!_Arthur reached deep within searching his soul for a quality the Pendragons rarely possessed, a remarkable quality he found in Guinevere more so than anyone: Humility.

"LISTEN!" Arthur yelled at his company of men as he took a knee. A collective gasp pierced the air as every Camelot knight dropped to their knees alongside him. In accordance with tradition no man was to be higher than the king. Their minds raced as to why their sovereign would subject himself to such a humble position. And soon the shocked and confused noblemen from Ealdor joined them on one knee.

"As we kneel in this circle there is no head, for every man here is equal. There is no beginning or end, only unity!" Arthur called to the fleet of chainmail clad soldiers, their capes flapping in the salty sea air, lantern lights gleaming off their polished armor.

Arthur beckoned to Merlin, Kilgharrah, and Alator, his brothers of magic whom the king chose to join forces with for the greater good rather than exterminate. He called out to the sailors who were not born noble but had certainly conducted themselves as such. He signaled to the wives who'd come along to stand by their men and aide in the battle. The sorcerers, sailors, and ladies all joined the circle of unity feeling honored that the king had invited them to do so.

Arthur humbly admitted, "Some of you are angry with me and for good reason. I was nearly killed by a knight who used magic to cheat at tournament so I banned all those with magic from competing and the other kingdoms followed suit. I was wrong. And if the gods will it for me to return to Camelot I will change these unjust rules. From now on every man entering a tournament must where binding bracelets so that no one is singled out and every knight may compete."

A roar of applause chants and cheers erupted into the night as they sailed across the sea. What little doubt Merlin had about Arthur being the one to unite the people went out the window with the resounding praise from his previous sworn enemies.

When the clapping and admiration calmed to a minimum Arthur went on to say, "Many of you believe we are at war to save Guinevere. It's true. My very heart would die without her and I cannot live without my heart. I cannot rule without my queen. But we are also at war because Nimueh plans to unleash a plague upon this earth unlike any we have ever seen. Whether you join me this evening in Ealdor black or Camelot red, whether you were born noble or common, magical or without enchantment, we all battle for our inherit right to exist!"

Arthur commanded an audience with such poise, courage, and honor he struck a tremor in the heart of all who were blessed to hear him speak. "Not all will meet the dawn. Some will live and some will die but each and every one of you fights with honor and with pride! We will not stand for this extermination of mankind! We will not go quietly into the night! We will not bow down without a fight! Allowing everyone you love to be destroyed because you are killing one another on this ship is NOT YOUR DESTINY! Yours is a great destiny! You will be remembered for all time as not only sailors, ladies, and knights but heroes! So rise with me as a united kingdom! Stand so that all of Britain, the gods, and the entire world may witness what it is we do on this night!"

Arthur was nearly deafened by the massive roar that rocked the ship as every man and woman leapt to their feet and shouting from the depths of their souls, "WITH YOU WE FIIIIIIIGHT!"

xXx

_The Standoff_

Sparks flew into the night air as steel collided with steel. Gwen's exhausted arms could barely swing a weapon as she and Cenred fought off Lancelot and his men. To make matters worse Gwen didn't have her sword. She was using one of Cenred's which was far too heavy for her. She knew that Nimueh's entire army would be on them in a matter of minutes but she refused to just lie down and die. This undead creature from hell had already taken so much from her. She refused to allow it to take her life too.

"Just come to the altar with me Gwen," Lancelot taunted her over the loud metallic clang of their swords colliding. "It'll be one quick stab, nearly painless."

"Never!" She bellowed between heaving breaths. She lunged at him. He blocked and returned a strike that sliced her thigh. A scream of agony escaped her but she stubbornly stood her ground.

"Then I will take you a piece at a time if I have to!" Lancelot growled and came at her with everything. "Be it in one piece or twenty you are going to die today!"

"You first!" She countered his blow. Swept underneath his arms and landed a brutal hit to his chainmail that made his ribs crack one after another like a stack of boards. Her elbow swept upward and caught him in the mouth.

Lancelot stumbled backward. His face twisted in excruciating pain as he spat out blood and teeth.

Gwen gasped as his teeth grew back before her eyes. _How will I ever kill him if he keeps healing himself!_

"I will never tire!" Lancelot bellowed as blade collided with blade. "I will never stop!"

He hooked Gwen's sword with the hilt of his own and flipped it out of her hand. He caught it in the air and walked toward her slowly and menacingly. One blade pointed at her stomach and the other at her throat she looked to Cenred for help but he was separated from her and fighting off three men. Her heart pounding like a drum, her every nerve on end at the thought of her pending death, Gwen backed up until her back hit a tree and Lancelot closed the distance.

The shade gave her a sinister grin, "I applaud your efforts but you cannot kill that which is already dead."

"She can't but I can!"

The shade whipped around, his glare furious, his sword at the ready as his cold black eyes locked on Arthur Pendragon.

"Oh Arthur," Gwen cried her heart nearly jumping out of her chest to see him alive. "I love you!"

"And I you Guinevere!" Arthur thought his heart would explode to see her alive and well but first he had to dispatch a wicked demon.

He and the shade circled one another, their faces furious and determined, the razor sharp steel of their swords begging for blood and for death.

Arthur spoke calmly almost flirtatiously, "Please forgive me Guinevere but I'm going to kill your ex lover now."

"Oh by all means sire," Guinevere chimed at her beau, her love, her savior.

"I've had enough of this standoff!" Lancelot heaved with a furious scowl. "Are you ready to die Pendragon?!"

"Die or live it matters not to me!" Arthur rebutted. "But I will meet your soul at the gates of hell before I allow you to harm my Guinevere!"

With an earth rumbling battle cry Arthur charged his nemesis, trading blood and sweat and cold sharp steel….

**Thank you for your patience and for continuing to follow this story :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	20. Excalibur

Excalibur

In the dense dark forest of the Isle of the blessed sparks flew as Arthur ferociously traded steel with the undead warrior. With both men being expert swordsmen Gwen knew the fate of this battle would rest on whoever took longer to tire. And the shade never tired. She would have to tilt the odds in Arthur's favor. She shouted things to distract Lancelot and hurled anything within her reach at the monster. Every time Lance would lose his stance to shield himself Arthur would land a fearsome strike to his arms or torso.

"Arthur!" Gwen gasped as her love sustained a hit so brutal it blasted a split in his chainmail. The boy king bled profusely from his arm but stubbornly kept his stance. He bit his lip until it ached to keep from crying out in response to the searing pain. Arthur knew his wails of agony would merely feed the shade's momentum and make the monster even hungrier for his blood. He backed away slowly as the shade took determined steps in his direction.

Gwen launched a heavy rock. The shade caught it and fired back. The stone struck her brow with a resounding crack. It knocked her out cold.

"Guinevere!" Arthur screamed at the sight of her helpless unconscious body. He switched his sword to the other hand and attacked the shade ferociously. Not even the sharp metallic clang of their swords colliding could revive Gwen.

Arthur whipped around and blocked the shade's blow. He struck Lancelot's jaw with his fist and threw him off balance. Lance stumbled backward over a tree root. Grabbed Arthur by the armor, snatched him. The weapons flew from their grasp as the men hurdled to the ground. They hit hard and tumbled feet over head until they smacked the bottom of a ravine. Even the fall could not quench their fury for one another. They rose on unsteady legs. Lance ran full speed ahead and tackled Arthur to the ground. They tussled and rolled about in the trench pelting each other forcefully.

Arthur clubbed the shade with a rock and leapt to his feet. He grabbed Lance from behind, locked his forearm around the shade's throat, and squeezed with all his might.

"Would you just die already!" Arthur shouted as Lancelot flailed his arms and fought for air.

Lancelot stomped down hard. The heel of his boot devastated Arthur's foot. Pain seared up through his entire leg. Arthur dropped like an anchor. As he crawled over on all fours to regain his stance the shade kicked him brutally in the ribs. Arthur could not refrain from crying out this time which only caused the shade to kick him again. As Arthur felt his ribs shatter and give way to Lancelot's sharp hard boot the boy king didn't get up. He couldn't.

"I have power! I have magic!" Lancelot bellowed, punctuating each sentence with a brutal kick or punch to the injured king. "How could you have ever been so blind as to believe a world exists where you could defeat me?"

Arthur took a sluggish swing. Lancelot palmed it and squeezed Arthur's hand with superhuman strength until the very bones splintered and cracked. The loud crunching and snapping of Arthur's bones were only drowned out by his wails of agony. Lance released Arthur's mangled hand and retrieved a heavy tree limb. He stormed up to a weary Arthur determined to finish him off.

Lance hefted the heavy branch above his head ready to bash in Arthur's skull. "Stupid arrogant boy! What could you possibly possess that I don't already have threefold?!"

"The love of Guinevere" Arthur heaved defiantly in the face of death. A devilish smirk warming his face as a revived Gwen tossed him Excalibur.

Before Lancelot could register what happened, Arthur sprung to his feet and ran him through. The monster stood wide-eyed, impaled by the blade, gasping like a guppy marooned on a sandy beach. Arthur's good hand remained firmly attached to the hilt.

"Get off my sword," Arthur growled as he planted a boot in Lancelot's hip shoving him away with a forceful kick.

The shade sank to the ground trying desperately to heal his mortal wound with magic but nothing worked. "Why isn't it working?" He murmured as blood leaked from the corners or his quivering mouth.

Gwen spoke slowly and deliberately, "This sword was forged in the dragon's breath and therefore capable of killing that which is already dead."

"Then finish me please," Cried a defeated Lancelot as tears of agony welled up in his soulless black eyes. He sat with his back to a tree, dark red blood running between his fingers as he fought to hold his bowels in.

"I'll do no such thing," Arthur growled with a merciless scowl. His voice was flat, cold, and void of empathy. "After all you've done to Guinevere you shall suffer for as long as it takes you to die. And since you are not human, but a being created of strong magic, your body will fight your demise rather than embrace it. Your death will be slow and excruciating."

Tears pricked at Gwen's eyes but not for what the shade had put them through. She wept for the beast it had caused Arthur to become. _I will not have another person I love succumb to darkness and evil._ "We're not like him Arthur," She spoke up wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I implore you to show mercy my love."

Arthur's scowl softened and melted from his face unable to resist her tears, "So be it Guinevere. I will not hurt him if it means hurting you. Turn your back to us and walk away."

Arthur knew what he would have to do and it wouldn't be pretty. He yearned to spare her. Gwen nodded at his request and did as she was asked.

Arthur turned to the shade and informed him almost dutifully, "I'll have to take your head."

"I know. Go ahead I don't belong here," The creature spoke with tears of anguish trickling down his cheeks, wanting more than anything for his torture to end. _My pain, my enslavement to Nimueh a woman who will never love me, I just want it over._ "Arthur"

Arthur forced down the lump in his throat, "Yes Sir Lancelot."

The shade crowed in a feeble voice barely a whisper as his quivering lips curved into a small smile, "Thank you."

For the briefest of moments the shade seemed a lot like the friend Arthur once loved and lost, the true and noble Lancelot. Arthur's vision blurred with tears. _If I was defending Guinevere or myself this would be easier. But he's just sitting there helpless, defenseless, like a roach trapped on its back desperately wiggling its legs._

Arthur took up the sword and regretfully performed the gruesome task his enemy asked of him.

Arthur walked back to Gwen shocked that he actually felt like a better person for having ended the undead creatures suffering. And in this moment Arthur realized that Gwen had saved him. Passing him Excalibur merely saved his life, but encouraging him to show mercy had saved his very soul.

"I love you Guinevere," Arthur cried as she ran up to him. "Its done. He'll never hurt you again."

She threw her arms around his neck as he enveloped her in a long awaited embrace. Nobody spoke. They just held one another even as the ground quaked beneath their feet due to cannon fire and battling warriors. He pulled her out at arm's length, concern pouring over his face.

"I'm fine Arthur," She swore and started fussing with him to find the extent of his injuries. She'd witnessed the shade hurt him badly.

"I'm alright Guinevere," Arthur promised brandishing a perfect looking hand that was no longer broken and mangled. "Morgana performed a Transference spell to save me. But in acquiring her health I got a bit of her magic as well. My wounds have already healed themselves."

"Thank god," Gwen embraced him once more with streaming tears. "Will you have healing abilities forever?"

She felt him shake his head no against her shoulder as they hugged. Arthur explained, "Healing capabilities come from stored magical energy. If I was a person of magic my body would naturally replenish this energy."

"Like fingernails and hair," Gwen asked as Arthur wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"Precisely," Arthur replied. "But I'm not a magical person. I merely pirated some of Morgana's energy. So once it's gone it's gone forever and I used all of my magic surviving that shade." Arthur took a deep breath as the sun began to rise in the east pouring its enchanting rays over Gwen's beautiful face. His heart sank with the knowledge that this battle might be the last time he saw his reflection in her lovely Egyptian eyes. "Before we charge into the face of death may I ask just one thing of you?"

"Anything," Gwen vowed. "I love you Arthur."

Arthur took her by the hands, "Will you kiss me like you did the night you gave yourself to me."

They're lips met and they kissed with all the fiery passion in their souls, all the love and tenderness within their pounding hearts for they would soon climb the mountainous wall of the steep ravine. They would soon charge into battle to take on Nimueh and save the world. Arthur and Gwen knew not if they would survive a fight to the death with the Goddess of Discord. But whether they won or lost, failed or triumphed, lived or died they had vowed to do it together...

**Just a couple chapters left! I'd like to give a shout out to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed this story. Your wonderful words encourage and inspire me. This includes you Guest reviewer. Where ever you are, whoever you are thank you for your consideration and support. **

**-Embrasia-**


	21. The Ultimate Sacrifice: Part 1

**Author's Note: This chapter has a warning for tragedy and angst but please trust that I will fix things in Part 2. Please don't kill me until you've read Friday's update ;^)**

**-Embrasia-**

The Ultimate Sacrifice: Part 1

During Leon's travels he came across an incredible invention in China. The Chinese for many generations had used a mysterious black powder to light up the heavens in celebration and festivity. To the world watching below it was like magic but Captain Leon found a far different purpose for it.

The pungent odor of keg powder choked the air as the crew ran about on deck. The mist of thick white smoke was so heavy Percival couldn't see from one side of the ship to the other but he stood his ground and manned the cannons with the Lady Morgause at his side.

"Fire in the hole!"

"Eye Captain!"

Leon's orders were followed by consecutive explosions that rocked the mighty vessel anchored just off the coast of the Isle of the Blessed. The thunderous blasts could be heard for miles as the explosive iron tore into the nearby landscape. This strategic and well executed attack was giving the Camelot and Ealdor soldiers an advantage. With the support of the sailors the knights were making headway.

Morgause had an entirely different plan for her cannon. She stretched her telescope to full capacity and a sinister grin warmed her face as she set her sights on Arthur and Gwen. Not having Percival's great might, Morgause used both hands to turn the crank. It shifted with the ear piercing squeaks and groans of metal rubbing against metal. At last she had aimed the heavy cannon perfectly. _This isn't personal Gwen and Arthur but you are all that stands in the way of me ruling two kingdoms. _Morgause's cinnamon colored eyes flashed a molten gold as she used her magical energy to light the fuse…

xXx

_An Apology, a Prayer, & a Vow_

Zings of magic flew across the battlefront as Sir Mordred, Sir Julius, and Sir Alvarr used spells as well as brute force to defeat Nimueh's mercenaries. Their quest was simple but the most dangerous of all. They were bestowed the honor of breaching the temple walls. Though this powerful trio knew that they were dead men walking they pushed on. They punched, sword fought, and magically blasted their way through hordes of enemy troops, leaving a trail of injured and dying in the blood and the mud of the melee. They reached the blessed temple's large wooden draw bridge in pursuit of Nimueh. They combined their magic into one enormous glowing red ball with bolts of electricity zipping throughout it.

"It should take another four minutes to conjure enough power to breach the gates," Mordred called as the trio held their arms out to keep control over their exponentially growing energy.

Mordred telepathically pulled the timepiece from his tunic and levitated it before his eyes. Each man tensed every muscle in his body to hold onto his powers as the 240 seconds ticked down.

"MINUTE ONE!" The countdown had begun but what waited on the other side of the gate? They'd heard tales of the Calyx: the gate keeper who separated the worlds of the living and dead. Sir Alvarr knew she was not to be trifled with. _If Nimueh does not slaughter us the Calyx certainly will. For years I've yearned for nothing but battle and glory. There were times I made the Camelot soldiers beg for their lives just to skewer them. I was so angry over the senseless murder of my family that I wanted nothing but death for my enemies and now I realize that I want nothing but Enmyria. I met her at a druid camp, an incredible woman who could handle a sword as good as a man. She wanted to marry but my bitterness had formed a fortress around my heart. I took her as a lover but otherwise kept her at arm's distance. Now I'm going to perish and I realize that I love her. I'm sorry Enmyria…_

"TWO!" Sir Julius sighed from deep within his soul. The formerly selfish, greedy, immature knight found himself praying for his little girl and her mum. _I had lied, manipulated, and plotted for years to hunt down a dragon for all the wrong reasons, but in the last few weeks I've changed my heart. My mother was right. A child changes everything. I hadn't planned on a baby. It only happened once with Sefa. I was running from my duties as a nobleman when her father, Ruadan, offered me work and a bed. The night before I left she gave herself to me. Sefa bore me a beautiful daughter five years ago and I just found out about her. Now my little angel is going to be an orphan. God help me…_

"THREE!" Mordred called as his heart sank into his stomach, his regrets washing over him like a flood as he gasped for air._ Kara my best friend my angel, you were in love with me but I never saw you as more than a friend until now. For as long as I can remember you have lived inside my heart and I don't know why I never made a move. _Mordred choked up. With no free hand to wipe his tears they ran down his face. _As a druid I know you can hear my thoughts, my very heart. So here and now I will take the vow I should have the moment I came of age. I, Sir Mordred, take you to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and health as long as we both shall live. I swear I do. Kara will you have me if only for this brief moment as your man the keeper of your heart? _

_Mordred… _He heard Kara calling in a voice so wrought with emotion. _Until my dying breath I do…_ He smiled through his tears as her beautiful words echoed throughout the recesses of his mind. Mordred turned to his left he and Julius spoke to one another in unison, "It's been an honor."

Mordred turned to his right and spoke to Alvarr his mentor, "It's been an honor serving with you Sir."

"The honor was mine," Alvarr swore.

Mordred took a deep breath, clenched his teary blue eyes, and called the dreaded number…

"FOUR!"

The powerful blast was deflected threefold by an invisible force field around the temple. Alvarr, Julius, and Mordred were thrown backward like rag dolls. They swept the sky for what seemed an eternity before their broken bodies hit the ground with a muffled crunch...

xXx

_A Traitor among Us_

"IN COMING!" Arthur bellowed.

Gwen looked up in time to find a cannon ball whistling at full speed toward her chest. Arthur dived. He tackled her. They rolled over the ground. Merlin used his magic to deflect the explosive so it wouldn't take out the nearby soldiers. A distant boom sounded against the mountainside.

"What the hell is Leon doing?!" Arthur shouted as Merlin helped him and Gwen to their feet. "That blunder nearly killed us!"

"It isn't Leon!" Merlin proclaimed. "We have an enemy onboard."

"Give the signal," Arthur ordered.

Merlin nodded and followed the order without question; which had never happened until now. The young warlock's faith and trust in his king was increasing exponentially. Arthur and Gwen regained their weapons. They worked as a team, the ultimate duo. They fought back to back lunging, blocking, and attacking as their enemies charged in.

Someone they knew and respected was plotting the demise of the once and future king and queen. But Gwen and Arthur were trapped within the heart of a battle. And there was nothing they could do for now.

Back on the ship Leon spotted the enchanting image of a phoenix crafted in fire sweeping the skies. "Cease fire!"

"But Sir!" Percival protested. "Nimueh's forces aren't even close to being subdued."

"I know, but Arthur gave the signal. Something had to have gone wrong," Leon explained as he placed the telescope to his eye.

He immediately saw the house size hole in the mountain wall. It was now obvious that Arthur ordered them to stand down due to a friendly fire. Leon knew that all of his sailors were well trained in the art of handling ammunition. None of them would have committed such a folly. And the explosion was in a near direct line to one cannon in particular.

Leon pointed a sharp finger at Morgause and ordered his sailors, "Throw her in the brig!"

Percival gasped. He jumped in front of her, "No captain!"

"She tried to kill her own knights!" Leon shouted. "She fired on our king!"

Percival looked at Morgause who'd already turned on a faucet of phony tears and fake remorse. She wept into her hands, "It was an accident. I swear. I love Arthur. He's my baby cousin."

Percival whispered sternly to Leon, "You know as well as I that these cannons are heavy and difficult to aim. Milady wasn't being malicious. She merely lacks the strength and training to handle the ammunition. The king will not be pleased if you throw his cousin in the brig over an accident."

Leon nodded but his glare remained suspicious, "Take the Lady Morgause below deck to prepare bandages and salve with the women."

"Yes Sir. Thank you sir," Percival said to Leon and led his fiancée away.

"I've ruined everything," Morgause fake cried, her shoulders heaving with the weight of her phony sobs.

Percival assured her, "You haven't ruined anything. We men will lower the boats and help Arthur and Gwen fight on foot. We'll protect them."

Morgause's blood boiled at his words but she maintained her composure, "Promise me you will bring the king and his betrothed back safely."

"I swear on my life that I will protect them or die fighting," He assured her as they made their way into the busy makeshift infirmary.

Morgause couldn't help but frown at the thought of her betrothed putting his life at risk to save Arthur. _I do not like this at all. _"Bring yourself back to me."

"I'll try," He pulled her close and placed his lips upon hers, a little thrown off by how low he had to bend in order to kiss her. _I could have sworn Cinderella was taller. _His mind eased as she pulled him deeper into the kiss. _I've grown a few inches since that fated night. That's probably why she seems shorter. _

Morgause reluctantly pulled herself from his embrace, feeling a little guilty about deceiving such a good man. Morgana spoke so fondly of Percival that Morgause herself felt as though she knew him, as though she was in love with him. Morgause gave herself the usual pep talk to validate her treachery. _Percival doesn't deserve to be lied to but Morgana does not deserve to be with him. I've lost so much because of her and her wretched brother. She's shown me no appreciation. I deserve this modicum of happiness. I deserve him._

Percival often pondered what was going through his betrothed's mind when she got that far off look in her eye but he knew he didn't have the time to delve into it. _Arthur and Gwen are in danger. We have to row ashore._

Percival called to Freya, "I brought you some help."

Freya breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you. We need all the help we can get. Enmyria fainted. Kara and Sefa are a hysterical mess. Their convinced the men they love have died. Though I fail to see how they could possibly know that."

Percival whispered regretfully, "Those women are of the Druid race. The people are linked telepathically. If they have lost all connection with their men…"

"I see," Freya nodded not yearning for him to finish the harsh truth, that the knights may very well be dead.

Morgause stood on her tiptoes to place a short sweet kiss upon Percival's cheek and then joined Freya mixing medicines.

Freya froze as she peered through the ship's round windows. All the color drained from her pretty face. A tidal wave collided with the side of the vessel as a monster the size of a castle began to emerge from the abyss. The women held on for dear life as the ship was thrown about like a toy in a bathtub.

"THE CRAKIN!" The women screamed at the sight of its enormous squid like tentacles.

But it was not the crakin. It was the Lamia who had quadrupled in size with Nimueh's aide. Nimueh had been the Lamia's creator and the monster would devour or drown everyone on that ship before she allowed any harm to come to her mistress.

Percival and Leon fired on the Lamia. While others shot harpoons. They needed to get into the battle to aid Arthur but they would have to go through Lamia to do that.

"Freya no!" Mithian shouted as she raced up the stairs after her. "I promised Merlin I'd keep you out of danger!"

In a matter of seconds Freya had undergone the painful and unpleasant transformation that made her a winged panther. _I'm sorry to make you break your promise but I have to stop the monster. If I don't the creature will murder us all. _

Sailors leapt in all directions from her path as the bastet ran down the deck. Before long Freya was airborne to take on the Lamia. She forced down the giant lump in her throat, knowing that even as a bastet she was no match for a monster of this size. The most she could do was distract the squid beast and slow it down. Freya slashed with her talons. She sunk her razor sharp teeth into the Lamia and tore. _ I need you brother. _Freya pleaded as the Lamia ensnared her with a giant tentacle. The creature began to squeeze the life out of her fury black nemesis while Freya cried out from her heart and mind. _Kilgharrah where are you…_

xXx

_Settling Scores_

In the midst of utter chaos on the battle grounds Cenred rolled tumbled leapt behind a tree. Barreling flames roared at each side of the heavy oak barrier. He felt as if his body was cooking in his armor. Every second the unrelenting flames caused the metals of his armor to grow hotter, unbearable. His very flesh began to singe. Cenred grit his teeth and stood fast despite the intense heat and searing pain. One step in the wrong direction would get him roasted like a pig. "I have no quarrel with you Dragon!"

Kilgharrah ceased his flame throwing. He roared from his mighty dragon form, "I have a quarrel with you Caesar! I was a child of five when I watched from the woods as you cut my mother down like wheat and stole my baby sister!"

Cenred fought to reason with his enemy. "I do not remember it! And yet I cannot deny it but now is not the time for settling old family vendettas! We are at war Dragon!"

The dragon laughed without humor, "I'm not going to kill you for what you did. I'm going to kill you for what you're destined to do. You will not murder my sister!"

Cenred swore with all his heart and soul that he would never harm Freya and that he loved her like a daughter but the dragon was not convinced. Kilgharrah released another thunderous roar of fire that reduced the large tree to a pile of fiery coals and ashes. Now exposed the Roman emperor took off running from the enormous beast. Cenred tumbled and jumped behind a large bolder. Flames barreled over every edge of the obstruction. When the fires stopped so that Kilgharrah could take in another breath Cenred ducked into a cave. He knew Kilgharrah wouldn't be able to fit as a dragon.

Cenred bellowed from deep within the cavern, his voice echoing and resounding off its clammy stone walls, "That's it! If you want a shot at me boy then enter and fight me like a man!"

"My pleasure," Then enormous creature began to shrink and his large florescent scales morphed into skin and chainmail and clothing. The whole transformation might have taken a couple minutes. Kilgharrah took up the sword he had kept clutched within his sharp black talons. Now in the form of a man he entered the dark cavern barely lit by a colony of fireflies, "Fight me Emperor Cenred!"

Cenred approached in the darkness with an aimed crossbow.

Kilgharrah tossed his weapon and raised his hands in surrender. He'd used so much fire that he needed time to regenerate and he did not have the space to transform into a dragon. "Cheater!"

"Yes," Cenred admitted casually with a firm grip on the object of Kilgharrah's demise. "I don't want to kill you. The last thing I need is another reason for my son to hate me. I just want you to listen."

Cenred tossed a small black satchel to him. Kilgharrah uncorked the small glass container within and took a whiff. His nose worked better than a normal human's. It only took one sniff to recognize the deadly contents, "You bastard! This is hemlock! You are planning to kill her! What have we ever done to you?!"  
"I'm planning to save her by killing me," Cenred confessed.

"You're lying."

"I'm telling the truth!" Cenred lowered the crossbow. "The only man who could have treated me is dead."

"Treated you for what?"

"That doesn't matter now. All that matters is I'm running out of time and Nimueh torched all of the research that would have helped me; the research it took Gaius seventeen years to gather."

"You're serious," Kilgharrah's face bore utter disbelief. "You have to tell Freya."

Cenred shook his head no, "It will break her heart and if the gods will it for us all to return to Camelot I want this to be a happy visit full of love and forgiveness for it shall be my last. I'll consume the poison on my voyage home. Myrddin and Freya will inherit the empire and all will be well."

Cenred reached for his satchel and Kilgharrah hesitated. For seventeen years Kilgharrah thought of nothing but avenging his parents and protecting Freya. He'd dreamt of how he would kill Cenred when the time came, when he was old enough and strong enough. But Kilgharrah was getting a nagging feeling that there was more to the story, more to Cenred than the murderous bloodthirsty tyrant he encountered all those years ago in the conquer of the pagan village. Kilgharrah realized for the first time that killing Cenred would bring no piece. Kilgharrah needed closure not vengeance. The dragon needed to know why his people were hunted and taken into slavery, why his parents were dead, and why he ended up alone in the world. These were answers he'd never receive if Cenred died in battle or by his own hand.

"You want to save her life don't you?" Cenred reminded his confused and conflicted enemy. "Hand over the hemlock boy and pretend to be shocked when Freya and my son receive the news. As for now we have a war to win."

With a deep sigh Kilgharrah gave his greatest enemy the poison. They took up their weapons, knowing full well that their comrades needed them more than they needed to settle a score with each other. They stopped short of the exit as the ground shook beneath their feet. A cannonball had exploded just outside. Boulders went rumbling down the mountainside. Kilgharrah and Cenred braced themselves. They ran for their lives as giant stalagmites came crashing from the ceiling. The only exit was now barricaded. A feeling of doom fell over them like a suffocating blanket. The cave was collapsing and Cenred and Kilgharrah were trapped within its walls …

xXx

_The Ultimate Sacrifice_

A mile behind enemy lines Merlin knelt and placed his hand at the side of Mordred's neck but felt no thump beneath his fingertips.

"This one's dead too," Alator called as he checked Alvarr for any signs of life.

Merlin screamed in anguish at the senseless deaths of his brothers in magic. All of this destruction and loss of life was caused by his own grandmother. Alator ensnared the young warlock as Merlin reared back to use his magic.

"Out of my way!" Merlin bellowed. "I will slay her if it's the last thing I do!"

"MERLIN!" Arthur screamed. He ran up to aid Alator in restraining his friend, but Merlin was blinded by rage.

Gwen dropped to her knees. Tears pooling in her eyes as she tried in vain to aid the slain knights she had grown up with in Ealdor. _Julius had a little girl. I wonder if he even knew about her._

Alator released Merlin for long enough to use as small enchantment just to show them. Everyone hit the ground as the magic flew back at them so strong it would have taken their heads off.

As Merlin heaved on the ground the Catha explained, "Nimueh has placed a force field around the temple. If you use magic against it you will die. If you try to step through it as a being of magic…"

"I'll die," Merlin uttered at last comprehending what had happened to Alvarr, Julius, and Mordred. Merlin called to Arthur and Gwen, "I must travel back into the battle to find knights not born of magic who can pass through the force field." _But who will make the ultimate sacrifice Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gwaine?_

Merlin yearned not to send any of his friends to their doom. He rose, whipped around. His king and future queen were gone. They were already seeping through the magical barrier and Merlin and Alator could not follow them, aid them, protect them…

"Arthur!"

"Gwen!"

"Come back! NOOOO!"

Though invisible the force field felt like cold wet gelatin as Gwen and Arthur passed through. And like gelatin it was equally hard to breathe through but at last Gwen and Arthur found a small entrance. Arthur gave the door a hard shoulder once or twice before he and Gwen fell into the temple with a collective gasp for fresh air. It was eerily quiet as they stealthily made their way through the cold stone corridors. Their hearts raced as they knew death awaited them around any corner or behind any door. Arthur spotted the daemoness preparing her dusty tomes and sharp daggers for the sacrifice. He had removed the weapon Morgana gave him from the wooden box and placed it into a satchel which hung from his sword belt. He just had to get close enough to Nimueh to use it without being killed or maimed first.

"Wait here Guinevere," He whispered.

"But Art…" He silenced her with a loving kiss.

"Wait for me," Gwen nodded as they reluctantly broke what she knew may be their last embrace. Her hands were trembling. In all their adventures, near misses, battles, and narrow escapes Gwen could not remember at time she was more terrified for Arthur than this moment.

Nimueh stopped murmuring incantations as she heard footsteps in the great hall.

"King Arthur of Camelot," Nimueh smirked without even looking up from her spell book as if his presence was entirely inconsequential, little more than a minor inconvenience.

"Your reign of tyranny will never come to pass Nimueh!"

Arthur ran for her. She vanished from his path. Reappeared on the other side of the torch lit chamber.

She released a sinister laugh, "I will not fight you Arthur. Your untimely demise will anger the gods and bring about their wrath."

Arthur bolted over. _Perhaps striking her will slow her down enough to allow me to use the weapon. _He whirled around. Sliced at her. His sword fell upon air as she disappeared. Arthur was magically flung back to the wall. Shackles clasped around his ankles and feet.

Nimueh growled down from her perch high in the rafters. "Oh yes. It would anger the God's if I cut out your heart. But there is no rule against cutting off other things."

Nimueh teleported and appeared before him in a fraction of a second. The chains jangled and clanged loudly as Arthur fought vigorously against his restraints.

A smile braced her evil red lips as she pressed the blade of the dagger between his legs. "I may not be able to kill you but I swear that you will never curse these lands with another retched Pendragon."

With the exception of his family jewels all Arthur could think was. _Please Guinevere, stay hidden. Don't be brave._

Horror washed over Gwen at the sight of Arthur in danger. She clenched her hands over her mouth in order to keep from gasping as tears pooled in her eyes. _If Nimueh cuts Arthur there he will bleed to death in a matter of minutes!_

Gwen gathered all the courage within her quivering frame unsure if she could go through with it. Could she die for the greater good, perish in order to save everyone she loved? It had come down to the moment Morgana had prepared her for: the ultimate sacrifice.

"Nimueh!"

The witch whipped around, her large florescent blue eyes narrowing on Gwen, "Now there's my pretty little sacrifice."

"Run Guinevere!" Arthur pleaded.

"I'm sorry Arthur but I'm done running."

Arthur's heart stopped at her words. He knew what Gwen would do. He'd already told her it was too dangerous, that it wasn't worth the risk. If all went well they'd save the world but if one thing went wrong she'd end up murdered. Her death would unleash the bloodthirsty dorrocha spirits and the human realm would fall into the clutches of Nimueh.

It was as if time stood still as Arthur helplessly watched the love of his life hunted down by the vengeful witch. And in the single longest moment of Arthur's life Gwen was slammed on the altar and pierced in the chest. His tortured screams rivaled that of the slain Guinevere. Her limp arm dangled off the edge of the altar. It twitched a full minute before it fell as still as the rest of her. Nimueh read from a book, speaking her incantations to a symphony of Arthur's screams and curses…

xXx

_The Dorrocha_

Gwaine, Elyan, Tristan, and Isolde triumphed as they at last subdued enemy forces. Nimueh's mercenaries were retreating into the mountains. Swords and torches at the ready, Isolde and the knights made their way toward the temple to slay the goddess of discord. Gwaine and the knights ceased at the sound of a shrill scream followed by a manly one. "Gwen! Arthur!"

Spirits poured from every window of the temple like smoke barreling out of a burning house.

Elyan became hysterical at the revelation that his beloved cousin was dead, "We're too late! Oh my god we're too late to save her!"

The Camelot and Ealdor knights watched in horror as the dorrocha descended upon the fleeing mercenaries. Screams pierced the air as men were frozen to death. Their bodies rendered stiff, shimmering with frost by a mere brush with the evil spirits. Once the dorrocha had consumed every fleeing soul they turned their sights on the knights. The soldiers hastily formed a fiery circle of protection with their torches, dreading the inevitable moment when the fires would die and the dorrocha daemons would feast on their souls…

**Thanks for reading! Will update Friday :^)**

**-Embrasia-**


	22. The Ultimate Sacrifice: Part 2

**Author's note: Sorry… I planned to post this yesterday but I didn't want to end this chapter on a cliffhanger.**

**-Embrasia-**

The Ultimate Sacrifice Part 2: The Tell Tale Heart

Kilgharrah had been battered, bruised, and knocked unconscious by falling debris as they tried to escape the cavern of doom. But to his astonishment he opened his large green eyes with the blurry vision of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She possessed skin of porcelain and long lavender colored hair, which put him more in the mind of a mythical nymph than a lovely girl of seventeen.

"Have I gone to heaven," He asked in his delirium when he realized he was no longer in the cave. He was outside in a bed of flowers near a beautiful waterfall. "Are you an angel?"

"I am not," She smiled bashfully as she knelt next to Cenred in her flowing white toga pinned at one shoulder by a golden broach. A crown of shimmering laurel leaves intermingled with her cascade of purple tresses. She blotted the unconscious Cenred's head with a cool cloth as she spoke with Kilgharrah. "Your friend is going to be alright."

"I wouldn't call him a friend," Kilgharrah grumbled as he rose from his laying position on the cool earth.

"Go easy," She cautioned. "I've healed you but it will take time to make a full recovery."

"Healed me with what?" He questioned.

A shy smirk lit her face but she couldn't give up her secrets until she knew he was trustworthy, "While you insist that this man is not your friend he rescued you from the collapsing cave before succumbing to his own injuries."

Nothing made sense to Kilgharrah at the moment. "I tried to roast Cenred like a chicken and he saved me," _This can't be the same man who wiped out my village. It just can't…_

A cold sensation swept over Kilgharrah. He writhed in excruciating pain.

The purple-haired woman gasped with concern, "What's wrong!"

"I must go now," He struggled to climb to his feet. He could barely breathe.

"But you can't go. You're hurt."

"Something is squeezing the life out of Freya. If I do not rescue her she will die. We will both die."

He had performed a spell years ago that bound his life force to Freya's, that way he'd know if she was in danger. He would know when to come running.

"Thank you for everything," He told the beautiful stranger as pain seared throughout his body.

Kilgharrah spread his arms at full length. He threw his head back and spun like a top. He whirled until the world became a blinding blur. The winds around his body began to form a tornado. With the force of the powerful gusts he began to lift from the ground. A mighty dragon emerged from the diminishing funnel cloud and flew with all haste to save Freya and the crew…

Kilgharrah's giant heart ceased to drum at the sight of the enormous Lamia. The crew was scrambling on deck in the ship below. Nothing they had fired had even breached the creature's tough skin. Kilgharrah swooped low. Released a blaze. The wet scaly skin of the lamia sizzled and popped like meat searing on a spit. The creature squealed. It retracted its burned tentacle. The unconscious Freya beast went plummeting from the sky transforming to a human as she fell. And soon the naked demigoddess came plunging into the sea. Kilgharrah searched the dark waters with his eyes, adjusting his elongated pupils as he peered under the waves. He saw no sign of Freya. The current dragged her underneath the ship. As he went to dive beneath to further look he felt a tentacle wrap around his tale. In a fraction of a moment he was flung across the sky. The water felt like bed rock as he collided from the great height. Anyone standing within ten miles could hear the crunch of his giant ribs. The broken dragon began to sink into the ocean.

xXx

In the realm of the gods Athena jumped on her stubborn uncles back. Two other gods attached themselves to Poseidon's legs. But none of them could stop the determined Lord of the Seas.

"We are not to interfere unless they unleash the titans!" Athena screamed. "Zeus will punish you!"

"Get off me!" Poseidon bellowed as he towed the three gods toward the portal. "I will not watch them perish!"

Freya's eyes popped open as her whole body began to tingle. And she found herself dressed in a dazzling white toga. The waters had always rejuvenated her but this sensation was different, divine, "Daniel," She spoke telepathically as she saw just his face, arm, and triton sticking out of the portal. Waves of energy were emitting from the golden weapon in her direction. "You're an immortal?"

"Yes Freya," He struggled to speak as the gods tried to fight him back into the world from whence he came. "Nimueh has enchanted the Lamia. No mortal weapon will kill it."

xXx

Above the surface Lamia had ensnared Leon, Percival, and Mithian as they struggled to free themselves. They dangled high in the air as the Lamia spoke in her thunderous voice, "I'll eat you first Mithian. You seem the softest. I'll have to beat the men to death in order to make them tender."

Leon spoke in a surprisingly good mood for a doomed man, "I often thought about how I would leave this world but I must admit being devoured by a squid beast never came to mind."

"Neither me," Percival and Mithian admitted.

"Release my friends Lamia!" Freya screamed as she rode behind the horns of Kilgharrah's dragon head."

"Or you'll do what?" The lamia laughed. "I'm going to eat them and have you for desert. No mortal weapon can defeat me."

Kilgharrah hovered before the monster flapping his enormous bat-like wings. With Freya firmly attached to his horns the dragon said. "Then it's a good thing we borrowed an immortal weapon."

The Lamia's black daemon eyes grew large as Freya pulled the dazzling gold triton from behind Kilgharrah's horns, and before the monster could protest or plead Freya had replaced its vile black heart with a gigantic smoking hole. As the Lamia slowly began to sink into the abyss her captives came raining from the sky. Kilgharrah swooped down to catch the falling Leon and Percival. Freya leapt from the dragon. She quickly donned the form of a winged panther. The bastet soared through the sky until a screaming flailing Mithian landed on her back.

Once everyone was safe aboard the deck the crew leapt and shouted in celebration and triumph.

"Stay and help the injured." Kilgharrah instructed his sister. "I'm going to help Merlin. He's up against something dark. I can feel it…

Kilgharrah had never wished he was wrong until now. There were souls pouring over Merlin and the knights. The men were fending them off with dying torches. Alator was using his powers to summon a ring of fire but he was just about spent; they all were. The injured dragon swept the skies spewing as much fire as he could at the dorrocha. Kilgharrah could only expand his lungs so far. The Lamia had broken his ribs. The fire he usually breathed with ease and grace was coming out little more than a sputter. And there were just too many souls. The dragon became light headed as he used all of his strength and breath to keep the daemons at bay. Soon he realized the mysterious woman was right. He was hurt too badly to fight. His giant eyes fell shut as his breath gave out. He came hurdling from the sky transforming to a human as he fell.

_That fall will kill him! _Merlin realized. "Iralazere Bitharia!"

Merlin froze Kilgharrah's descent and moved a bed of brush and leaves underneath him. Kilgharrah dropped. Gwaine and Elyan removed his limp body from the pile.

"He's alive," Gwaine said. "But what do we do now?"

They all turned to find a myriad of dorrocha soring their direction with no fire breather to stop the malignant spirits.

"It's been an honor," Gwaine said to the Ealdor knights who were once his enemies.

"The honor was ours," They spoke with great fortitude in the face of certain death.

"Giving up so easily," A voice called from the sky.

"It's Aithusa! The one Julius searched his whole life for!" Called one of the Ealdor knights as the graceful white dragon swept across the sky putting unrelenting flames on the dorrocha. She breathed fire without pause until the murderous spirits retreated.

"We're saved!" The soldiers cheered taking off in the direction of the tower which imprisoned Arthur.

The white dragon shrunk down into a beautiful woman with lavender hair and a crown of golden leaves. A delirious Kilgharrah, spoke with a smirk, "So that's how you healed me, dragon's mist."

xXx

Arthur clenched his eyes. A dorrocha was flying straight for him. But the king couldn't move. He was chained to the wall. Nimueh incinerated the spirit with a magical ball of fire.

She shouted to the others daemons, "You will leave this soul to me!"

The dorrocha made an about face and poured outside in search of people to freeze to death. Nimueh saunter over to Arthur. She grabbed him by the jaws with one hand and gripped a dagger still dripping with Gwen's blood with the other.

The goddess spoke menacingly, her evil lips brushing his ear as she whispered. "It is not your destiny to die by my hand; however by the time I am finished with you Arthur Pendragon you are going to pray for the sweet release of death."

Arthur's heart pounded like a drum as his hand reached into the satchel attached to his sword belt. Nimueh brought the dagger up to his eyes. First she'd blind him, and then cut out his tongue, before at last taking Arthur's manhood and making him a eunuch.

He got a firm hold on his gift from Morgana. It didn't feel like much of a weapon. It was cold and squishy. _How can I possibly harm Nimueh with this?! But what choice have I?_ _This weapon will either kill me or save us all… _He clutched it tight and slammed it on the witch's face.

Nimueh gasped for air. The dagger fell from her hand with a clang. She fought to pry off the large black slug. It had wrapped itself over her entire face. She flailed. Kicked about on the cold dirty floor. As the magical chains and shackles vanished from Arthur's wrists and ankles he realized the creature was sucking the magic out of Nimueh. She pried the slimy mollusk off at last and picked up Arthur's sword before he could get to it.

"I am going to run you through and concern myself with Zeus' wrath later!" Nimueh shouted with a deranged look as she honed in on an unarmed Arthur. "Did you think taking my magic would stop me from killing you?!"

"No," Arthur spoke with great fortitude as death stared him in the face. "I knew taking your magic would stop you from healing yourself!"

"From what" The goddess smirked as she hefted the sword to cut him down.

"From this," Arthur grinned. "Now Guinevere!"

Nimueh whipped around. The gravely injured Guinevere clutched her by the throat with both hands. Gwen's eyes glowed a molten gold; her quivering lips feebly murmured an incantation. Nimueh fell to the ground clutching the wound in her chest as Gwen stood before her completely healed. Gwen's blood began to vanish from the altar and the dorrocha screeched like banshees as they were sucked back through the tear in the veil.

"It's called transference." Gwen heaved breathlessly as she stood over the dying goddess. "It's a form of dark magic."

Arthur stood at Gwen's side as he informed their nemesis, "When you are raised by a witch, as my Guinevere was, you're bound to pick up a few tricks."

"I killed you," Nimueh wheezed, her face a mask of agony and confusion. "I pierced your heart."

Gwen shook her head at Nimueh almost feeling pity for her… almost "Do you feel that excruciating agony? That feeling of being crushed to death from the inside. That Nimueh is the feeling of your lung collapsing. Because that is what you had done to me. I possess a rare medical condition. My organs are reversed. Unlike others my liver is on the left side of my body while my stomach and heart swing to the right. You'd merely pierced my lung, a fatal injury that I have now transferred to you."


End file.
